Jigsaw Pieces
by Arianni
Summary: Bits and pieces of DMC3, but with a whole new twist. More of our fave demon hunter Lady! Jigsaws are fun to put together...DanteXLady
1. Chapter 1: Acquaintances

A/N: It was gnawing at my brain. Ok maybe not gnawing, but certainly doing some kind of tapping of my skull, like people tapping pens on desks. Update-update-update-update...

So for once I've obeyed the voices in my head. I've updated this chapter, as promised in chapter 7 or which ever one it was. I feel like chocolate ---wanders off---

---munch---Right, here it is. A brand spanking new chapter 1 to reel in new readers.

* * *

The wind sang quietly through the cool summer night. And one _would _keep one's melodies soft if one were in the presence of a certain half-demon. The gentle breeze rustled Vergil's silvery hair as he gazed out at the view from the tower summit, eyes drifting lazily over the city.

Both hands resting on the hilt of Yamato, his faithful sabre. The samurai-like scabbard glinted with the souls thousands taken by the blade it stored. Virgil watched a red motorcycle and its rider snarl around the base of the Tower to disappear inside.

"It appears we have an uninvited guest," he murmured idly.

Now, Virgil was quite a sane devil (and rather intelligent too); he wasn't talking to himself.

A downright ugly man in his forties sat at the foot of a stone statue, quietly reading a little red leather-bound book. He was tall, bald and had the general appearance of an undertaker. Only up close could you see that he had heterochromia, bi-colour eyes. In his case, one eye was blue and the other brown.

But upon first glance, you couldn't miss the huge, reddish brown scar that dominated the right side of his face. It pulled that side of his mouth into a constant frown, but the expression was unnecessary: Arkham, being the servant of Vergil, was already a very grave man.

"Is that so?" he replied, closing the book. This was the game they played. Instead of ordering Arkham to kill everything in sight, Vergil would casually note a new being that came into view. Through their little word game, Arkham would receive instructions on how to deal with this new 'guest.'

"Yes," said Vergil. "A human. A woman."

"I'm afraid we should be rid of this…uninvited guest?" inquired Arkham, getting to his feet. "That _is _what you want…?"

Of course, sometimes the servant didn't get it. Once, Virgil had told him to 'give the demons a proper welcome' and had meant it quite literally. Instead, Arkham had promptly disposed of them, which resulted in a severe beating from his master.

I suppose it would strike one as odd to see a young lad in his twenties or so wielding such control over an older man, but – this was Vergil. A half-devil with demonic powers beyond Arkham's wildest dreams.

On top of that, he also commanded an icy character too; never smiling, never laughing, never breaking his china doll face. (And it was indeed like china – Vergil was quite the handsome murderous demon.)

Most frightening of all though, was that he very rarely raised his voice or lost his temper. When he did, it was like being thrown into a freezing river: the shock came from nowhere, and if you didn't act quickly, it could very well kill you. Vergil narrowed his glacial blue eyes in thought.

"Actually, I'd like to be acquainted with this woman," he muttered. Wondering what poor fate awaited the woman, Arkham nodded and made for the spiralling staircase. He looked up at the sky, watching the grey clouds slowly mass together.

"A storm is approaching," he mumbled, before disappearing down the steps. Virgil took no notice and pushed back the strands of hair the breeze had blown forward. He did _not _wish to look like that wretched brother of his.

* * *

Lady adjusted a heavy black missile launcher on her shoulder before pressing onward. She had just finished slaying roughly fifteen demons and the large weapon was becoming rather uncomfortable, as were the guns strapped around her legs.

The inside of the Tower was stony and cold; she wished she'd worn long pants. Then again, a loose, short skirt was easier to fight in – it allowed complete freedom of movement for kicking demon ass.

She surveyed the long flight of steps before her with beautiful, blue and brown eyes. People often did double takes when they saw her up close; it irritated her sometimes. If she were a silly bimbo, she would have agonised for hours over what eye shadow to wear. Lady would rather eat her own arm than turn into a barbie doll.

Stone effigies set with white flames lined one side of the twisting steps, and the other side was a solid stone wall carved with intricate engravings. She saw no potential danger, and proceeded.

In a cluttered storeroom, Arkham loaded a powerful tranquiliser gun with red feather-tipped darts. He knew exactly who he was going after. Only one woman had the courage, skills and determination to enter the Tower.

His daughter.

Without compassion or sign of emotion, Arkham locked the tranquiliser gun and set out after the demon hunter.

* * *

Dante, youthful face contorted in concentration, swept down the stone steps, red trench coat billowing behind his bare chest. He was Vergil's identical twin physically, but the resemblance stopped there.

Vergil and Dante were absolute polar opposites in character. SquareEnix and Rockstar could find more things in common. Most of the time Dante was the cocky yet ridiculously lazy guy always up for a joke. But sometimes, a bit of his brother would creep in, and he became very dangerous indeed.

He had to find a key of some sort to unlock a door upstairs. The lock was in the shape of a skull, but he couldn't just jam any old demon head in there…Dante's thoughts were interrupted by a shout and the familiar sound of safety locks clicking off.

Instinctively he drew his own pistols – Ebony and Ivory – and did the same. He found himself aiming at a young woman with short wavy brown hair, also holding twin pistols. She looked like she knew how to use them too, but what kind of threat was a woman?

"Are you…a demon?" asked Lady coldly, as if daring him to say yes.

"Well," sighed Dante, seeing her as no threat and twirling his guns around, "I'm half-demon, does that count?"

Without hesitation Lady fired three shots. Each bullet hit Dante square in the forehead, leaving little neat red holes. He gasped and spat a tiny gob of blood, then frowned. She grimaced in frustration and lowered her weapons a fraction. Anything with demon blood had to die.

"Hey, that wasn't very nice! You're trying to kill me just because I'm half-devil? That means I'm half-human too, babe," said Dante. The bullet holes healed over as he spoke. With a cry of outrage, Lady rushed at him, the handle of her gun drawn back.

Dante was ready for her. He stepped past her, easily dodging the attack. What he didn't dodge was Lady's flying heel.

Her boot connected with his jaw and sent him tumbling down the hard steps. Lady wasted no time enjoying her kick; she flew down after him, tucking her missile launcher under her arm as she ran.

Dante leapt up, only to find Lady right in front of him, her blue eye closed in aim.

"Dodge this."

The missile fired; Dante arched backwards, his head almost touching the floor. It was heat-seeking; he grinned as it rounded and sped towards him. The half-demon sprang up, landed on the missile and rode it like a surfboard, hooting in delight.

He could have jumped higher and let it splatter the woman all over the walls – but then she'd just be a pretty stain. Dante steered it toward an open window and jumped at the last second, the missile veering into the night sky and exploding harmlessly.

He hit the ground running and made for a corridor past the steps. Dante didn't have time to deal with demon hunters hell bent on exterminating him. He heard bullets whooshing past him, then something much larger flying above. Lady was somersaulting over his head in an attempt to block his path.

The half-demon caught her ankle in mid air. She swung round in front of him, dangling like a cute rag doll. Her missile launcher and guns clattered to the floor with the help of our good friend gravity. Dante flicked his silvery white hair out of his eyes and grinned.

"Let me go!" yelled Lady, twisting madly. She aimed a kick with her free leg and almost got him, but he caught it just in time. Her arms certainly couldn't reach any part of him, but she swung her fists just the same.

* * *

Arkham observed the interesting scene from his vantage point on a balcony. To an outsider, it looked like Dante was trying to shake Lady free of money like a cartoon bully in the schoolyard. He would wait for the devil to exit, and then make his move.

As Lady hung in front of Dante, chocolate hair falling into her mismatched eyes, punching and squirming, he thought of what an attractive demon hunter she was. Perhaps he could have a bit of fun with her later…

"OK, I'll let you down," he said after she had begun tire, "Only if you promise not to shoot when I walk away."

Lady stilled.

"I promise," she said immediately. Knowing there was no chance she'd keep her promise, Dante swung her up and into his arms. She stared at him in utter repulsion for a second before he crushed his lips to hers in a degrading kiss.

Lady shrieked with disgust and twisted from his arms, rolled on the ground picking up her guns on the way and opened fire on the laughing, fleeing half-demon.

"That was for lying!" he called as he disappeared down the corridor. She couldn't be bothered chasing him, or wasting too much ammo. There were other demons that needed slaying too.

Eventually, all was silent in the cavernous room again. Lady growled, muttering abuse under her breath as she retrieved her weapons and holstered them.

_Still, _she thought as she slung the missile launcher over her shoulder, _he was pretty hot for a half-demon… what the fuck am I thinking! _Although she scolded herself for even thinking that way about a devil, a tiny part of her had wanted that kiss to last longer – the passionate, lustful part.

But the rest of her – the stronger, determined part – had ordered her to jerk her head away and kill the filthy demon. Lady brushed the idea from her mind.

_I am a demon hunter, _she reminded herself as she loaded a fresh missile into the bazooka. _Not some desperate skank.

* * *

_

Arkham settled the tranquiliser under his arm with ironic similarity to his daughter. Silently, he flipped open the scope and took aim, squinting his brown eye closed…

A spill of dust on the opposite balcony broke his concentration. Lady noticed it too and drew her pistols. More dust trickled through the banisters, and thirty or so hooded grey demons materialised, wielding gleaming sickles.

Ragged black robes hid their grotesque demon bodies and cast their faces (if they even had faces) in shadow. Vanguards. A low-class species of Vanguard, but a formidable opponent in numbers.

Arkham lowered the gun and sat down to watch this amusing predicament. Lady swore loudly and fired as the creatures leapt from the balcony, letting loose ear-piercing screeches. The demons rushed at her, slashing crazily.

She ran vertically up a pillar and backsaulted off, repeatedly pulling the triggers like there was no tomorrow. She landed and kicked at the nearest demon, shot another, sprung on her hands and lashed out with her heels – she was a flying fury of agility.

One demon gave a final scream and disintegrated into dust. Lady grabbed its fallen sickle and attacked, spinning it around in a windmill.

She released her hold and the blade soared through the air, impaling another devil. She fought and fought, driving the foul creatures back with fist, foot and gun.

After a while, the demons jumped backwards and decided to advance en masse. Lady was tiring, so she raised her pistols and squeezed the trigger.

CLICK. CLICK. CLICK. They were out of bullets. Her hands flew to some other guns strapped around her legs.

CLICK. CLICK-CLICK.

Fear began to creep up her spine as she checked every gun.

CLICK. Empty.

CLICK. Empty.

Every magazine used up.

The demons circled her and pressed forward slowly, raising their sickles in triumph. Trying to stay calm, she swung her missile launcher around and stabbed at the creatures with the bladed end. It was a clumsy weapon - they avoided it easily and continued towards her. She couldn't fire a missile now; she'd be blown to bits at this range.

Lady was not going down without a fight. She dropped the launcher and struck out with her fists, punching any demon that got too close. This generated a 'one step forward, two steps back' effect.

She knew in her heart that she couldn't hold them off forever without any weapons. Eventually her muscles would cramp and wear out, she would lose her breath, and the then the demons would strike.

* * *

Little did the demon hunter know, her father was preparing to shoot the devils down if they began to hurt her. Virgil had asked to see her, and Arkham was quite sure this time his master had meant while she was still alive. He could see his daughter's great strength waning, and readied the sniper rifle he'd brought along just in case.

Lady's breath rasped in her throat as she fought tooth and nail, trying to keep the demons at bay. She had slain many, and now another one crumbled to powder, its blade clanging to the ground just out of her reach. Lady slipped on the dust and a sickle glanced her left side, tearing through her white shirt and into her skin.

She screamed and ducked as the devils, spurred by her injury, slashed more feverishly. She couldn't fight much longer…the demons were closing in for the kill…Arkham's finger wrapped around the trigger…Lady closed her eyes and cursed herself for not lasting longer…

Suddenly the sounds of twin gunfire made her open her eyes and look around wildly. Eight demons disintegrated, their remains scattering all over her. Lady didn't care; she saw a blur of red material, and a gun flying towards her.

She snatched it from the air and shot at the grey demon in front of her, dimly aware of the silver-haired man at her back, firing away. The devils jumped and sprang about, trying to avoid the onslaught of bullets, but Dante and Lady followed them in perfect symmetry.

"So, what's your name?" yelled Dante over the sound of their gunfire.

"I don't have one," replied the demon hunter loudly.

"OK, then what do I call you?"

"I don't care, call me whatever you want!"

"Whatever, Lady." With that, Dante somersaulted over her head, landing very close in front of her, and fired right past her ear. The demon behind her screeched and crumbled. Lady shot at the demon past Dante's ear and it disintegrated in a similar fashion.

The two gunners lowered their weapons and stood still for a moment, feeling the heat from each other's bodies. Lady stepped back quickly, avoiding his gaze.

"Here," she said bluntly, and thrust the borrowed gun at him. Dante put up a hand.

"Keep it, it's only my spare. There's an ammo stash up those stairs," he said, jabbing his thumb over his shoulder to the stone steps. He stepped back too and grinned, folding his arms.

"You seem to keep running into me. You want a date?"

Lady trained the gun on him and snorted. _He _had run into _her._

"Date a demon? I'm not that desperate," she sneered.

Dante arched an eyebrow, his grin fading.

"Yeah? Well I don't date women who shoot me in the head," he fired back, tapping his forehead.

Lady shook the greyish devil dust from her hair and looked at him as if he were an irritating child that refused to go outside to play.

"Don't you have some place to be?" she said sluggishly, before, to Dante's peaked interest, unbuttoning the bottom half of her shirt. She glanced at his leering expression and rolled her eyes before ripping off a large piece of material and wrapping it around the wound from the devil's sickle. The ripped shirt revealed a flat, taut stomach, a flawlessly creamy colour except for the terrible gash above her hip.

"Yeah. Yeah, I do," said Dante, tearing his eyes away and heading for the same doorway he had exited only a few hours earlier. Except this time, he wasn't running.

* * *

A/N: It is done! ---dances--- Click on that chapter select button, coz I've updated chapter two as well!


	2. Chapter 2: In Devil's Company

A/N: If you've just come from Chapter 1 and reviewed it (thankyou so much!) I'm afraid you won't find any personal acknowledgements, like in my later chapters. This is but an update, nothin' new. Enjoy, kiddies!

* * *

The demon hunter watched him walk away, her fingers yearning for her pistols, to pull the trigger on his unsuspecting back. But he had saved her life, a fact she almost couldn't bare.

_I owe my life to a demon, _she thought disgustedly. She couldn't kill him now; every moral fibre in her body told her so.

_Unless I save his life. Then we're even. _The idea was almost as bad. But why would he save her in the first place? Devils were cold, heartless animals, without feeling or soul. And this one was particularly arrogant (and handsome… Lady scolded herself again).

He must have simply wanted to kill something, and the demons attacking her happened to be easy targets.

_Yes. __That must be it.

* * *

_

Convinced that the half-demon wasn't coming back, Arkham rose once more and aimed for his daughter's neck. He trained the tranquiliser on her as she headed for the staircase, brushing off the rest of the demon remains.

All Lady heard was a muffled THUNK, then felt a stinging pain in her neck. She reached up and yanked out the feathered dart, but it was too late. Drowsily, she looked up and raised her guns. She saw her father, felt a burst of rage, then noticed the stone floor oddly rushing up to meet her.

Arkham watched the pistols slip from his daughter's hands and saw her legs crumple, a low moan escaping her lips. Satisfied, Arkham shouldered the tranquiliser and sniper rifle and went to collect his quarry sprawled on the ground. Just like a rag doll.

* * *

The cool midnight breeze whispered across Lady's skin, stirring her into consciousness. She opened her bi-coloured eyes slowly and blinked, trying to focus on her surroundings.

She was propped against one of many pillars topped with stone demons. The sky above her was choked with clouds, and - her hands were chained above her head.

Her mind felt like it was filled with dense fog. Her muscles ached, particularly her thighs, though she had no idea why, and the spot on her neck where the dart had penetrated burned. She saw she had been relieved of her weapons. Lady simply could not think straight. She was still very groggy from the tranquiliser serum.

"Ah, you're awake."

A handsome young man walked towards her. He looked exactly like that cocky half-demon, except his silver hair stood up in a spiky style. When he drew closer, Lady dimly saw another difference: his eyes, although the same shade of vivid blue, lacked the life and strength of the other's. They were empty voids of ice.

"Who're you?" she asked weakly, her head lolling uncontrollably.

Virgil's face cracked into an expressionless smile.

"I am Virgil, son of the demon Sparda. What is your name?"

Lady woke up a bit more at the mention of demons. With great effort, she lifted her head and said, with frost in her voice:

"I don't... _have_ one."

Her head flopped back down to her chest, and she noticed something. Virgil turned to Arkham, who had resumed his reading spot after attaching Lady to the pillar.

"Did she tell _you _her name?" Vergil asked plainly.

Arkham snapped the miniature red book shut.

"No, but your brother has christened her 'Lady.'" he replied.

"She met with Dante…?"

As Arkham explained the story, Lady began to reclaim control of her body. She felt some strength returning to her limbs, and a tiny point of light shone through the impenetrable fog in her head.

What she had noticed before when she was forced to look down her shirt was the small silver dagger she kept nestled in her bra. It had belonged to her mother Kalina Ann, a great demon huntress.

The dagger had been passed down the female generations of her family since ancient times, all of whom were skilled demon hunters. Now, thought Lady, it was time for the dagger to serve its purpose again, and slay another devil.

The light in her mind glowed brighter, evaporating most of the cloud. The effects of the tranquiliser were wearing off. She still ached terribly, and her muscles were still partially paralysed, but her mind was alert.

It seemed Virgil had had the decency not to check everywhere for weapons.

Suddenly, an idea dawned upon her. She glanced up at the pillar. Yes, she could reach the top if she pushed off hard, but her legs weren't strong enough yet…

Lady relaxed and let her head flop. If she appeared still drowsy, it would buy her some time for her full strength to return.

* * *

"…And she dropped to the floor, sleeping like a baby," Arkham finished, gesturing to the faking demon hunter. "It appears she is still half-asleep. Her body is having trouble fending off the sleep serum."

_Speaking of her body, _thought Virgil. He had been struck by Lady's rugged beauty when Arkham had returned, expecting an ugly woman. His beliefs that she was perfect were confirmed. Brave enough to enter the Tower, knowledge of demons, trained in gun and hand-to-hand combat. Perfect – for him.

He sauntered towards her, his hand resting habitually on his sword hilt.

"Lady, do you know why you're here?" he asked. S

he shook her head slowly. She hated to be all limp like this; it promoted laziness and slow reaction time. But it was the best way to lull Virgil and her father into a false sense of security, so _they _would take longer to react. Those extra seconds were all she would need.

* * *

A/N: Done and done. I might even upload a _current _chapter now...---snicker---Just joking. Merry Christmas. :)


	3. Chapter 3: Of Bats and Demon Royalty

Disclaimer: Thought it'd be interesting to include one of these. All characters associated with Devil May Cry are registered trademarks of Capcom. But if I'd thought ofthe idea first---snickers evilly---Hello, Penguin Publishing! 

A/N

Edit 06/12/06: I just realised that a paragraph repeats here from chapter 2, and have now changed it. Whoops!

I thought I had better clear something up for those for you who may have noticed it. This story stemmed from my misinterpretation of one of the cut scenes in Devil May Cry 3, where Virgil notices Lady entering the Tower.

In the scene, Arkham says "Actually I've been acquainted with that woman." What I thought I heard was Virgil saying "Actually I'd_like to be _acqainted with that woman," which led to the whole demon king and queen shtick. I re-watched the scene and discovered my hearing was in need of a checkup.

* * *

Anyways, thank-you to everyone who reviewed; there were so many different things said and askedthat I would feel inadequate as an author if I didn't respond to them induvidually. Here goes...

Deep-Emerald-Green: I'm glad to hear that about thecharacters. And what do you mean, you've never played the game? After graciously reviewing this chapter, go out and play it!

Dannaron: You underestimate the crowd pleasing benefits of cliches. :) If demons didn't appear for no reason, there would be no game, and no action. Its what they do. But I will try and work on the more cringe-worthy cliches and the flow of the story; constructive criticism is always welcome, don't feel bad about it.

Avrile: Not really a triangle:a little bit of column V, a little bit of column D...but Lady certainly won't be happy about the former! All will be revealed soon.

aznpuffyhair: Hold your demons, its only been two chapters! Your wish may be granted, but not in the way you'd expect. So far, the storyis set before Virgil and Dante's first fight. I know it can be confusing, as I've taken random phrases I remember from the game and stuck them in odd places. I reccomend not attempting to apply the story to the game's plot, you'll end up with a pounding headache.

Cat-the-devilhunter: Thank-you somuch! Positive reinforcement is fantastic.

midnightair: Here's the next chapter, all wrapped up in a nice little package complete with shiny ribbon bow.

Hermisia: I agree, there is not enough Lady-centric ficson this site. Hence, Jigsaw Pieces was born!

Sey Lee:Not really a traditional,equilateraltriangle, more like a deformed scalene. And yes, you are making sense. :)

Sam Valentine: You're must bepsychic; I _am _planning to develop Lady's family history, which includes shedding light on Kalina. Thanks for the tip on disabling anomyous reviews, it should help a lot.

I apologise in advance for the suddenchange of POV at the end of this chapter, but it can't be helped (you'll know what I mean when you get to it). Enjoy wallowing in the following primordial word hash.

* * *

"Yes!" mumbled Dante as the door unlocked with a satisfying click. After saving Lady he had gone back along found the special skull and had fitted it in the keyhole.

_One door closer to Virgil, _he thought grimly as he pushed it open. Dante found himself in a shadow-ridden room with a large open space in the middle.

Hundreds of candles burning around the room cast it in a dim glow. Steps on the opposite side led to an old stage with a tattered scarlet curtain at the back.

No sooner had Dante taken three steps did a knot of bats swoop past and cluster in front of him. Dante grinned slightly at this odd episode. More and more bats came form the rafters, and they began to spin.

They whirled faster and faster in a black spiral until they began to take human shape. At length, a woman of all things burst from the clustering bats and laughed melodically, tossing her long auburn hair.

She didn't seem entirely human to Dante though. Her skin was tinged bluish green, and she was naked from the waist up, except for two locks of hair covering her breasts. Her thick black skirt appeared to be made of bat wings.

"Welcome, sir." Her voice was throaty, sexy. Dante wasn't intimidated in the least. Past experiences with nasty combinations of alcohol and hookers had taught him to resist provocative females. She was suddenly right in front of him. Dante blinked at her speed.

"Is this your first time here?" she asked, drinking in his looks.

"Yeah," replied Dante as she laid a slender hand on his shoulder and circled him slowly. She was a hot demon that was for sure, but he could see where this was going…

"You'll be nice to me, won't you?" he murmured.

She moaned promiscuously.

"Don't worry. I'll be so nice to you…" she lingered at his ear, "Mm, you'll never wanna leave."

She stepped back and smiled, as if admiring her supposed hypnotism. Dante's thoughts were confirmed: she wasn't on his side. And she wanted to fight.

"Now that's what I'm talking about," he said, swiftly drawing Rebellion. T

he demon woman giggled and made her way to the stage. She blew a spark of violet electricity from her hand; bats swooped around her in a kind of shield.

"Well then," she murmured, beckoning with a long, tapered finger. "Come on, sugar."

* * *

"You are here because you are to be a part of a great plan," said Virgil, an arm's length from Lady.

She resited the urge to snap her leg out and break his jaw.

"You are going to help me do what my father never could. Unlike him, I will be king of demons."

_King? _thought Lady.Virgil leaned close. She could smell his strange devil breath.

"And you," Virgil lifted her chin, "Will be my queen."

Lady bit her tongue to stop herself shouting. Thoughts chased each other inside her head – should she play along with it? How should she react? She would NEVER be his queen, but would he harm her if she refused? What did her father think of this?

Lady gave an unreadable groan and shifted her shoulders. Her arms were truly hurting her now; she wished they would go back to being numb. The rest of her body was continuing to strengthen – she could feel her muscles reviving from paralysis, and the blood flowing to her toes, tingling uncomfortably. She was almost ready.

Virgil let her chin droop gently and smoothed his silver hair back.

"I will have my father's power. It will take planning and certain…objects," he said, casting his mind to the silver amulet that hung around his brother's neck, "But we will-"

"Forgive me." cut in Arkham, rising. "But I doubt there is any point in telling your future queen the plan until she is properly awake to comprehend it."

His eyes met with Lady's and he knew at once she was acting. Arkham had suspected it for a while; he knew his daughter was strong enough to stave off the serum faster than this.

"As you wish…" muttered Virgil, and resumed gazing out at the glimmering lights of the city.

Lady wondered if her father knew. And if he did, why was he helping her? Did he want Virgil gone as well?

* * *

A/N

I included part of the Nevan fight in this chapter because it took meAGES to beat her in the game and I wanted to express my joy of defeating her. She just didn't know when to shut up, did she? Plus she plays a vital messenger role...to be revealed next chapter. Hope the update was a little less painful. :P


	4. Chapter 4: Virgil's Plan

Disclaimer: struggles with inner soul Hang on a sec...conscience beats evil desire to claim ownership of Devil May Cry Ahem, yes. I don't own any part of DMC. Capcom owns the whole thing, down to the last silver hair on Dante's head.

A/N

Hello everyone, and a very Merry Christmas to you all. This chapter will be the last for the holidays, so I made it extra long. The next one will be sometime in January hopefully, depending on how effiecient I become with school work.

Thankyou so much to everyone who reviewed, it encourages me to write more.

Avrile: Is there something wrong with the plot? Tell me; I'll try and fix it.

Amber: Now that you mention it, you're right. I never realised until now!I can't change it now, buthopefully this chapter will shed some light on the queen thing and make it seem less hilarious. Damn, where did I go wrong...

The Tyrant Hamster: (What about a tyrant gerbil:D) Thanks a lot, I'm sooooooo glad I got the transition right! Personally, my aim of fanfics is to make the reader have fun. I'm glad I've done that.

midnightair: Thankyou for your review and here's the next chapter!

aznpuffyhair: Yeah, Nevan is after Dante awakens his demon side. But, as the title says, Jigsaw Pieces is exactly that - it doesn't fit into the game's time frame. I just mixed things up a little (or a lot).

Once again, a huge thankyou to my reviewers. Santa will bring you presents! Sorry if there's some grammer mistakes; I had to rush through it once I realised how long I'd been on the computer.

* * *

Dante let out a shout as the razor-sharp wing of a bat clipped his arm. The demon woman cackled and sent a beam of violet electricity shooting towards him. He dodged it and slashed furiously at her shielding bats, cutting new holes in the black screen. Dante could see that she was becoming desperate to kill him as her attacks became more frequent and violent.

He had sustained a few injuries, including a slow-healing broken toe, but it was nothing compared to the damage he had inflicted upon his opponent. Her once voluminous hair hung in sweaty clumps, her eyes were bloodshot – she looked like a loaf of bread that hadn't been sliced properly. Dante knew she was tired, but she did a good job of hiding it. Taunts and comments like "How's this?", "Now you will tire," or the irritating "Come on, sugar," came thick and fast, always accompanied by a smirk or a cheeky wink.

The devil woman disappeared and reappeared in a flourish of bats and energy on the stage. She seemed to pause, then Dante saw her almond-shaped eyes light up wickedly. He raised his sword defensively out of habit. What had she just thought of? Without warning, she swept down the steps to the middle of the room.

Dante leapt back into the air, firing shots as she glided towards him, arms outstretched. He abandoned his airborne tactic (wincing as he landed on his toe) and sprinted away. She was moving twice as fast as usual, gaining ground on the half-demon. Dante didn't have much time to wonder why this was so, for she was upon him, seizing his wrist with an iron grip. She spun him around and gazed into his eyes.

"Kiss me," she whispered.

Every thread of his being screamed in protest, but, horrified, Dante found he was unable to escape. She lowered her mouth to his, one hand still clamped on his wrist, the other crooking around his neck, drawing him closer.

_What is she doing? How does she have control over me? _These thoughts raced through Dante's mind, along with the blaring messages of RUN! SHOOT! FIGHT! But all thought was neutralised when the demon woman's lips wrapped around his. Dante felt like she had stuck a needle in his very soul and was slowly extracting it. She was literally sucking his strength to add to her own.

The half-demon's vision began to cloud; he shuddered and moaned beneath her kiss as his energy drained away. After what seemed like an eternity, she let him drop to the ground like an empty bottle. Weakened beyond movement, Dante lay, barely conscious, where he fell, sprawled on his back with silver hair fanned out on the grimy floor. The rejuvenated devil kneeled down beside him, her wounds gone.

"It's a shame," she sighed, tracing a long fingernail down his cheek, "Sparda was a much better kisser than you." At the mention of his father, and the foul thought of dying from a demon's kiss, Dante focussed his sluggishly growing strength on his hand. If he could only reach Ivory…

"…Then again, he wasa full-blooded demon," she was saying, "So I suppose you could never compare with that, could you, sugar?" Dante silently thanked Sparda for his devil genes – his energy was returning rapidly.

"No," he pretended to choke out, avoiding her gaze. "But I know one thing that I _was_ better at than my father." The demon woman smiled and leaned forward.

"Oh, really? What's that?" she asked. In one fluent movement, Dante whipped out Ivory, put the barrel to her chest, and pulled the trigger. "Shooting demons," he replied, slyly. Her features morphed suddenly from smug pleasure, to surprise, to agony. She drew a horrible rattling breath and toppled forwards. Dante leapt from under her and caught her in his free arm, standing. The two looked frozen in a mismatched tango dip. "Do you know where Virgil is?" demanded Dante. The demon woman moaned, for once, with pain.

"Alright. I'll help you. He's at the top of the Tower, waiting for you. And he has your girlfriend," she said. Dante went blank, and then crinkled his nose in disbelief. "Who, Lady?" he asked with arched, white eyebrows. "Brown hair, white shirt, thousand bucks worth of artillery strapped to her legs…?" A ghost of a grin crossed the demon woman's face.

"That's her. Shame, for such a pretty thing to go to waste," she murmured. "She's not my girlfriend," he said automatically, but then something else she had said registered. "What do you mean, 'go to waste'?" he said. She tsk-tsked and shook her head.

"Your little lady is going to be Virgil's queen," she said.

"What?" Dante squinted in confusion. He knew Virgil was bent on stealing their father's power, but what on earth did he need Lady for?

_Queen? _thought Dante. His mind puzzled over this information as he tried to pry more from the demon woman:

"What kind of queen? What's Virgil planning? What is he going to do?" But she had appeared to lapse out of conscious thought, for her head began to loll gently and her breathing slowed. Dante repeated himself and tried to shake her into response.

"Oh, Sparda turned out two lovely sons," she moaned, some of her old lust seeping back into her words. "But you," she trailed her finger down his bare chest, "Are much nicer than your brother." Her finger hit his belt buckle and began to slide sideways towards the holstered Ebony; Dante started and quickly put a bullet in her stomach. She froze up, then the last of the air expelled from her lungs, and she flopped backwards, like the finishing highlight of their tango. Dante blew the smoke from Ivory's barrel and flicked it back into its place. He let the demon woman drop to the floor, her red hair swathing her glassy, lifeless eyes.

Her information didn't change his destination; he had seen Virgil at the summit from outside his shop. As Dante headed for the unknown door adjacent to the stage, he thought with a grin how his predicament was turning into a 'damsel-in-distress' situation, and wondered what Lady would think when he arrived there. If she was still alive.

_No, he needs her to be his 'queen'. _Was it some sick fantasy of Virgil's? Or was she needed to aid him in opening Sparda's seal on the demon world? Dante pushed the door open – and became face to face with a be-sickled, ragged Vanguard. He looked past it to see its fellows advancing, screeching in delight.

"This just keeps gettin' better and better," he muttered sarcastically, and drew his faithful handguns.

* * *

The tiny, gold second hand of Arkham's pocket watch ticked its way past twelve for the umpteenth time. He clicked the lustrous lid closed and stowed it away. 

"Virgil, there has been ample time for the tranquiliser's effects to negate. Mar- _Lady _should be fully awake by now," he said. Virgil turned to inspect her, his blue coat billowing in the soft breeze. Sure enough, Lady's head was raised showing focussed, mismatched eyes, her body alert and showing no signs of limpness. Putting her need for information before her desire to eliminate the demon, Lady had decided with much disgust that she would play along with Virgil's 'queen idea', whatever it may be. Using the best of her theatrical skills, she had feigned waking up from paralysis. Now all she needed was the right scenario to escape; after, of course, she found out what Virgil and her father were up to.

"What's your idea, Virgil?" she asked as sweetly as she could. She was going to need all her charm and seduction she had to fool this devil. _Ha! Now there's a joke, _thought Lady as she batted her eyelashes ever so slightly.

"To break Sparda's seal on his power, we need a few…ingredients," said Virgil, pacing in front of his captive. "First, the amulets of Sparda. I have one," he indicated the gold-chained pendant around his neck, "And my dear brother has the second."

"Your brother?" echoed Lady.

"Yes, I believe you've already met him. He'll be here shortly," replied Virgil, fingering his intricate sword scabbard.

_That pig-headed guy and this guy are _brothers?_ In looks only. _He wasn't coming to _rescue_ her, was he? Lady refrained from snorting in disgust.

"Once we have both amulets, they will combine to form a key. Then we need… sacrifices from you and I, to activate the key." Lady turned her head a little.

"What kind of sacrifices?" she asked evenly. Virgil opened his mouth to answer when Arkham interjected -

"Blood. Blood from the chosen demon rulers must be sacrificed to unlock _chaos._" He hissed the last word with a kind of evil hunger that increased Lady's hatred for her father even more. Virgil folded his arms and stared at Arkham dangerously. With reluctance, the ugly servant bowed and sat back down.

"As I was saying, a small sacrifice for total power. After that, Temen-ni-gru will rise up, and with it…" Virgil's eyes glinted, "the sword of Sparda, and all its great power." Lady stared. He was clearly a power-hungry maniac, although appearing on the outside as calm and collected.

"Will you need me after that?" she asked. _Not that you'd be able to get rid of me anyway, but…_

"Yes," replied Virgil, now walking towards her. "I need an heir in case, for some odd reason, I…die." He seemed to have trouble saying the word, as if admitting his mortality was some terrible sin.

"Spirit transferral isn't that difficult, especially in the demon world." It was all Lady could do to keep from shrieking a protest.

_Have sex with a demon, have his kid AND give him another chance at life after he's already dead? You'll have to kill me first, _she thought.Though all she showed on the outside was a blink and a gasp, which she managed to turn into a feasible cough. Virgil rested one gloved hand on the pillar beside her head. He leaned in, and Lady gazed into the two blue, soulless holes that served as his eyes. She forced herself to give a little smile.

"You like my plan, then?" said Virgil. Without giving her a chance to answer, Virgil kissed her, long and deep.Hating herself, Lady moaned and wrapped her ankle around his, pulling him in. The closer he was, the more pain he'd receive when she used his jaw as a launch pad. Lady couldn't bare this disgusting act any longer. She drew back as gently as she could and exhaled. His guard was still up, however slack and weak it was.

"Do I have a choice in this plan?" she asked in a sexy voice quite unlike her own.

Virgil's mouth twitched.

"No, but it will be much easier if you sit back and enjoy the ride."

"Sounds like fun," said Lady, still in the seductive voice. "But you know what you said before? About liking your plan?" A horrible smile formed on Virgil's lips as he said, "Yes?" Lady stiffened and looked him straight in the eye.

"I hate your fucking plan." She sprung off the ground, kicking the half-demon in the chin for extra lift as she arched backwards like a winged crane. Her feet landed on the pillar's surface; she wrenched her torso up, pulling at the rusty chains with all her might. To her delighted amazement they snapped, spraying metal and stone chunks everywhere. Lady stood upright on the pillar and savoured her escape for a millisecond.

Unfortunately, that millisecond was enough time for Virgil to recover and shout, "Arkham! Cage her!" Lady's father obeyed – he stood and began rapidly tracing patterns in the air, his fingertips leaving behind phosphorescent red smoke trails. Lady leapt from the pillar, forgetting about her mother's dagger, and made a beeline for the steps. Her arms wouldn't pump in time with her running rhythm that was usually so fluent. They were dead from being suspended above her head for so long. She grimaced and urged her legs faster, hearing her father muttering in a strange tongue.

Suddenly, two huge, powerful hands gripped her shoulders from behind. Lady let out a strangled shout and twisted to face her attacker, only to find that – there _was_ no attacker. The hands were not attached to any arms or body; they were a transparent, smoky red, and were not letting go. She squirmed and tried to pull the hands off her, but her fingers swiped straight through the smoke. The hands held fast and dragged her backwards towards a shimmering scarlet object. Lady was drawn level with Virgil, who was wiping a patch of blood from his chin.

"I will _never _be your queen," she hissed, and spat at his feet. Virgil slapped her across the face.

"Savage woman." he muttered as the magical hands flung Lady inside the shining red cage, then materialised out of sight.

* * *

A/N

I have the next few chapters planned out, but I'm not sure they'll go in the direction my readers want. So, I'll ask the question:

What do YOU want to happen next? If most answers agree with what I've alerady got planned, then all will be well. If not...I'll figure something out. Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year!


	5. Chapter 5: When Clouds Cry

A/N: The great computer god/goddess must hate me. Or at least he/she takes great pleasure in taunting me, cursing me with this godforsaken excuse for a machine. I speak of my own PC, constantly screwing up and stopping me from posting! I had the chapter all planned out, all wrapped up in a nice little package, when, BAM! Screen freezes, and the rest is history. So, I apologise profusely to all those who read my humble fic, and thank them on bended knee for waiting all these months. (Eep.) Thankyou especially to reviewers, the Easter Bunny will bring you chocolate:

Deep-Emerald-Green: Thanks, but no, Lady is 100 human. Though sirens are unbelievably cool.

ShadesOfBlood: (Are you rosy or more of an armadillo pink:P) Thanks for the review, and you get your wish, funnily enough.

Dannaron: I really hate to say it out of my own damn pride at stake, but the introduction of Nevan was taken pretty much straight from the game. beats self with mallet And sorry, no main character deaths. For now. snickers evilly

Sey Lee: It's ok! Any reviews are welcome, anytime. As for the triangle, that was a bit unintentional, as I'm trying to keep the characters as IC (in character) as possible. Thanks for your review!

Bustahead: bows Hail, great DMC authoress. blinks Had to say that. :D Thanks for all your reviews, and reading my one shot too!

The Tyrant Hamster: The villain world does need more rodents, I'll give you that. I admire your views about not interfering with the author's expression. You'd be a terrible novel editor :P.

Hester: Glad to hear of another DantexLady lover. It was meant to be.

So as not to confuse you, the beginning of this chapter goes back in time a little. And yes, I CAN do that, I'm the author; I have absolute power. Kneel before me and tremble in…ah, stuff it. Prepare for cliché-a-rama, and enjoy.

* * *

Dante could hear muffled voices coming from above him as he ascended the grand steps of the Tower, flanked by tattered orange flags that rippled in the night wind. On one side, the sheer grey surface of the Tower loomed, while on the other, a straight clean drop of about four hundred meters was in store for the clumsy-footed. The half-demon was far from this description, and the steps were wide, so he jogged onwards at an even pace, his boots thudding quietly on the hard rock. 

He faintly heard an earthy woman's voice through the fog of indistinct sound from above.

"Do I have a choice in this plan?" It sounded familiar, except it was…tweaked, different, like it had been tampered with on a sound board. Dante momentarily slowed as he recognised the owner of the voice. Lady! She sounded so different! Almost...sexy. Before he had time to elaborate on this naughty thought, Dante distinctly heard his brother's voice amidst the murmuring. He couldn't quite make out what Virgil was saying, but the tone was more slurred and smug than usual. Straining to hear the conversation between his dark twin and the demon huntress, Dante quickened his pace. He spotted the surface of the Summit; it came in line with his shoulders; he could make out two figures on the far side…Dante leapt the last flight of steps and landed on the surface just in time to see Lady's head jerk to the side from the force of his brother's palm.

Even from the opposite side, Dante could see the pinkish-red fingermarks tattooing her pale skin under the moonlight. Virgil muttered something as two giant, red smoky hands shoved Lady into what looked like a glimmering circus cage of the same colour.

"Hey!" shouted Dante, revealing himself.

"Dante." Virgil murmured, a note of twisted pleasure in his voice. He turned his attention from Lady and stared down at Dante with icy lazuli eyes.

"You shouldn't hit her, bro. That's no way to get her to go out with you," said Dante. He glanced at Lady. She was circling the perimeter of the cage like some trapped lioness, massaging her forearms as she surveyed her prison for signs of weakness in the bars. She looked up at the sound of his voice.

"You!" she exclaimed, wrapping her hands around the bars.

"Hey babe. Playing hard-to-get with Virgil, eh?"

"You better not kill him. _I _want that pleasure."

Dante's humorous tone vanished.

"I can't promise anything." he said quietly. He and Virgil began to circle each other. The heavy clouds cracked and began to cry; light drops spattering the smooth ground, filling the night air with its muggy, damp scent.

* * *

Lady squinted through the grey sheet, staying dry from the solid cage ceiling. The two demon's visions were unimpaired by the rain; they followed each other's every move, every muscle twitch, every step. Dante reached back and unsheathed the broad sword with a grey skull set in the hilt – one of his father's swords, Rebellion. Answering the challenge, Virgil drew his long, slim sabre, enjoying the gritty sound of sliding metal; it was Yamato, another of Sparda's weapons. One could only wonder how the demon knight would feel had he been alive to see how his 'gifts' were being used. Lightning forked the sky as the brothers suddenly ran at each other, letting loose angry battle cries. Their swords clashed and bounced back; Dante lunged, Virgil dodged and struck at his sword arm; Dante blocked and drew Ebony… 

Lady watched the two half-devils fight, not knowing quite how to feel. They were demons, yes…but they were brothers too. Family.

"Don't they care?" she murmured to no one in particular. If they killed each other, great, it would save her some ammo, but then – it just wouldn't feel right. Brothers fighting to the death, in fact any kind of family fighting, were wrong by Lady's standards.

Except in her case.

"Skilled, aren't they?"

Lady's eyes flew to the side. Arkham stood just beside the cage; he could have been there for several minutes as Lady was so engrossed in the fight and her thoughts. These thoughts however, fled her mind as the hatred for her father stormed inside her.

"Shut up." She aimed a kick through the bars. Her foot cam within inches of Arkham's face, and that was as far as the cage allowed. He chuckled.

"I will get you." She whispered dangerously. "You betrayed our family, murdered my mother and joined the demons. You better believe I'll use some 'skills' when I get out of here." Lady glared at him with mismatched eyes so full of hatred that Arkham's heart jolted in fear. He shook his head and shifted his focus back to the fight.

Grimly satisfied she had inflicted some form of discomfort upon her father, Lady sat down to watch the battling siblings. She would have to conserve her energy until one of the devils – and she secretly wished it was the red-coated one (What _was_ his name?) - emerged victorious and came over to free her. Or at least, she hoped he would; she'd have to wait days without food for her body to slim out enough to fit through the bars, and by then she could have died of thirst.

The rain had matted both Virgil and Dante's silver hair to their heads so they truly looked like the identical twins they were. Their swords crashed again. This time the brothers flipped away from each other instead of striking at close range. Dante and Virgil panted heavily, each refusing to lean on his sword for support. Water droplets dripped down their pale faces and necks and soaked their clothes through, though neither felt cold. All was silent except for the gentle whisper of the rain.

The sky paused.

A huge thunder clap roared, and the brothers ran at each other once more, sparks flying from their trailing swords. The different metals crossed and grinded as Virgil and Dante's arms shook with effort trying to overpower one another. Steam rose from where the swords met, evaporating some water off the twins' faces. Dante began to grit his teeth. Seeing his chance, Virgil gave an extra burst of force and knocked Rebellion from his brother's hands. It flew through the air and clanged to the ground some fifteen metres away close to the cage.

Dante had no time to react.

Virgil's sabre plunged into his stomach. He gasped as wave after wave of unfamiliar pain flooded his entire body. Fat drops of blood spattered to the ground to mix with the rain. Lady stood up in shock.

"Now, where have we seen this before?" cooed Virgil. He drove the blade in to the hilt – Dante's eyes bulged and a horrible retch ripped from his throat.

"Ah yes. I remember now. A year ago, we were in this exact position. Except, perhaps my sword was _here._" Virgil jerked Yamato to the left with a sickening sound. His lips twitched into a smirk.

"Or maybe it was _here._" He forced the blade to the right. Dante coughed blood onto Yamato's smooth surface, and Virgil knew he had struck home.

"No matter," he sighed. "You could never be as powerful as me. Goodbye, Dante." He yanked the sabre out, a torrent of blood spilling with it.

Dante fell.

As he did, Virgil grasped the silver amulet around his brother's neck. The clasp broke with the weight of Dante's falling body; he landed on his back, and lay still. Virgil swept his fingers through his hair, raking it off his face.

* * *

"No," a soft mutter escaped Lady's lips. Now she would have to deal with the harsher, more serious demon, harder to trick, harder to kill. But it wasn't just that. The red-coated demon had seemed nicer, light-hearted – almost as if he was on her side. 

_It doesn't matter now, _Lady thought as Virgil pocketed the stolen amulet and made his way toward her.

As suddenly as they had started, the clouds dried their tears, and the rain stopped. The masses of grey vapour parted to reveal a midnight-blue sky, wearing a diamond dress of stars and a crescent moon pendant. Virgil shook his twin's scarlet blood from his sword but didn't sheath it.

"Arkham," he said, "How do I rid myself of this cage?" When the servant rose to perform the task, Virgil blinked slowly.

"I said, how do _I _get rid of it, not you." He said calmly. Eyeing his master suspiciously, Arkham explained that all one had to do was tap the top of the cage twice.

"I see. And can you also tell me: what is your daughter's real name?"

Two pairs of bi-coloured eyes widened.

"That's none of your conce-" Arkham was cut off. Literally. He looked down at the sabre hilt sticking out of his stomach, and the pale hand gripping it. Lady fell back silently into the bars.

"I now know everything necessary to break my father's seal. You're no longer needed." said Virgil. "But before you die, just tell me her name."

A thin trail of blood trickled from Arkham's mouth.

His legs trembled.

He stayed silent.

Frustrated, Virgil removed Yamato and shook it free of blood for the second time that night. Arkham hissed out his last breath and crumpled to the ground in a sprawled heap.

Lady blinked.

* * *


	6. Chapter 6: Second Chances

A/N: Am currently in Full Metal Alchemist recovery mode due to finishing watching the series. There is no more. Ever. Apart from a movie. (If you haven't seen it, I strongly recommend becoming addicted. It's jolly good fun.)

I send virtual hugs and gift baskets to:

The Tyrant Hamster: Ah, my long-time reviewer. For you – I send extra muffins. And yes, I realise now I did make Virgil a tad badass but hey, all twins have something in common. The Sparda brothers love to taunt.

Dannaron: Yes, I thought it would be more of a shock if something so small i.e. Lady's death stare could make Arkham OOC, even if only for a moment. Everyone loves a cool antagonist, hence the success of Devil May Cry 3. Thanks for the review!

Hester: Thanks! Though Dante is in a bit of a pickle at the moment…

Apologies if I missed anyone out. Moving on, this next instalment is quite lengthy, and I seriously toyed with the idea of chopping it into two chapters. But, upon checking how short chapter 2 was, I decided I must get out of that terrible habit. So here it is.

* * *

Lady was having trouble breathing. The dead man lying so stilly in a pool of his own blood could not be her father. It wasn't him. She was imagining things. She had not seen correctly. The huntress squeezed her eyes shut and shook her head, repeatedly telling herself it was a hallucination. It was _her _mission to kill her father, so he _couldn't _be dead, not now. Virgil did _not _just thrust his blade into her father's stomach, nor did he shake it free from blood after removing it. She had imagined it all.

But when Lady finally opened her eyes, Arkham was still there. He was still dead, his glassy, bi-coloured eyes staring lifelessly up at the crescent moon. The blood from the fatal wound had begun to leak across the smooth ground, spreading towards the cage. Lady stared at it in horror as the blood slowly seeped into the cage, like a red snake coming for her. A strangled gasp slipped from her throat as reality's cruel weight crushed down.

Her father was dead. He had been murdered before her eyes no more than a few minutes ago, by a demon. Her life's work, her purpose, the act that had given her life meaning– had just been eliminated. Snatched away forever. You didn't get a second chance at killing for revenge. And the thing that had taken away her chance was standing right in front of her, smoothing his silver hair…

Anger is a terrible emotion. It is almost as heavy as reality, and lasts a lot longer, morphing into other feelings like rage, guilt, or jealousy. Lady's anger dawned when she realised who was responsible for shattering her dreams of revenge. It started out slowly at first, bubbling deep in the pit of her stomach. The more she watched Virgil, whom was waiting for her to speak, the more it grew, spreading to every part of her body until she felt as if fire was coursing through her veins. Every time she looked at the body of her father and glanced back to Virgil, every time reality pounded the images into her head, her breathing became more ragged, her teeth grit harder, until she was drowning in her own rage. It was all too much.

"YOU!" Lady leapt up to the bars closest to Virgil and rattled them, her eyes wild with fury. Virgil's eyebrows arched in mild surprise. He seemed almost…_pleased. _Lady's mind gave way.

"HE WAS MINE! I WAS SUPPOSED TO KILL HIM!"

"Ssh now my queen, you don't want to upset the new life in you…"

Lady wasn't listening. The demon, the creature in front of her, out of her reach, didn't understand. Since she was thirteen, all she'd had was revenge. Now she had nothing but her hatred of him. Her voice ripped through the night air in hoarse shouts and shrieks.

"_Don't you understand? He murdered his own wife to become a demon. He joined _you_. And to top it off, that filthy creature is my father! I had to kill him!"_

Virgil, his calm, young face never shifting, wandered a few steps away from the cage, first to glance at Dante's body, then to inspect the dead man. Lady's eyes bulged as he nudged her father's head with his toe, making the head roll to one side, then letting it move back into place.

"Strange things, human necks. Broken easily, but-"

"LISTEN TO ME!" Lady screamed. She punched the glittering bars so violently her knuckles bled, to make sound. But she didn't care.

"_My soul was screaming, demanding that I kill him! And now – YOU'VE DONE IT FOR ME!" _

The combined weight of the situation and her own rage was profligate for Lady. She stopped screaming, because she was beyond voicing her emotions. She focussed her gaze on the sparkling red bars before her, because she didn't want to look at her father or the demon. She let go of the bars and let her arms hang limply by her sides, because she was past making him listen. Lady's blind anger had given way to despair. Certain things never returned: the spent bullet, the spoken word, the lost opportunity. She could never exact her revenge on the man who had caused her so much pain.

Virgil had ended her father's life far too quickly. The job had been done so swiftly, so effortlessly, without emotion. She had wanted him to suffer for longer. Suffer, like he made her suffer by killing her mother in front of her. Her mother…

Her mother's dagger.

It was still there, invisible in its sheath under her clothes. Lady's foggy mind cleared a fraction as she remembered the time her mother had given it to her.

* * *

"_Oh, Mom, it's gorgeous!" Mary gushed, catching her reflection in the impurity-free metal. The steel shone with a rich silver, strangely brighter than she had ever seen. Mary concluded that the weapon was so precious to her mother that she polished it every day._

"_I know. This dagger has been passed down the female line in my family for generations. It has the strength of all your huntress ancestors locked within it. But most importantly," said Kalina Ann, taking her daughter's shoulders, "It has my love to you, Mary. That is the most powerful weapon of all."

* * *

_

_Love? _Thought Lady. Love was useless. It was a symbol of the only person who had ever shown her real love - her mother. It was a swirling void of empty promises and terrible pain. She had learned not to love when she was thirteen, after that night.

_No, don't do that, _Lady told herself. She wasn't supposed to recall _that_ memory. She had taught herself to suppress it, to shove it deep down inside her soul so she would forget. Whenever the memory began to surface, she mentally scolded herself and buried it again.

At length, Lady screwed up the courage to raise her head to look at Virgil, frightened of her own anger that may flare up. Seemingly out of boredom, he had pried the little red book from his servant's stiff fingers and was flipping through it loosely. He glanced at Lady, slipped the book inside his coat and walked a few steps toward her. Staring into those glacial eyes that held no remorse for taking away her prize, the hot fire rippled through her body once more. Virgil was the cause of her despair. She would make him feel the pain her father was supposed to feel, one way or another.

"Come now. We must go to the control room to begin the ritual," said Virgil. The clouds of despair that had filled Lady's mind were evaporating rapidly. The hunter in her took over, puzzling every possible course of action from her situation. Virgil said something about a control room, so that meant he had to free her from the cage. She had no weapons on her… except the dagger. Lady had never used it before. It had become a kind of talisman rather than a weapon, something she always wore to give her inner strength. But she was going to use it now. It certainly wouldn't kill a high demon like Virgil, but hopefully it would stun him long enough for her to escape, find some proper weapons, and finish the job later. Right now she needed to gain the advantage by escaping her prison. She thought for a moment, then remembered her father explaining how to dissipate the cage. Tap the roof twice. Virgil looked at her thoughtfully. Lady didn't know it, but her face had gone blank and doll-like while she was thinking, and Virgil had mistaken this for anger-free composure. He reached out to caress Lady's cheek.

"Such beauty behind the hatred," he murmured. The touch of his cold fingers on her bare skin was almost more than she could bear. Somehow she controlled herself and watched his hand as it left her face to reach up to the top of the cage.

_Two taps, two taps, two taps, two taps... _The words beat rhythmically in her head.

TAP.

…_One._

TAP.

_Two._

The glittering prison vanished – Lady plunged her hand down her shirt and grasped the handle of the dagger. It was a clumsy manoeuvre, and Virgil's inhumanly quick eyes followed it all too well. Sensing danger, he seized her wrist as her hand emerged, clutching the small blade.

_NO! I have to do this! _White light suddenly shone so brightly from the metal that Virgil cried out – although there was no sunlight for the blade to reflect. He jerked his head away reflexively, and in that moment, Lady finally understood her mother's words. With a mighty battle cry, the demon huntress drove her mother's dagger deep into the devil's chest. He convulsed horribly and coughed blood, staining Lady's white shirt with scarlet splashes.

"Wha- what is this sorcery?" he gasped, his usually calm face twisted in confusion and foreign pain. He glared down at the wound as if expecting it to heal. Lady's eyes shone with memories of her mother. She had never told her directly, but that was how mothers worked. They let their children find out the true power of things for themselves.

"Human love. Something a demon like you will never understand." She withdrew the weapon and did a pirouette, bringing her heel around for a perfect reverse roundhouse kick. Her foot connected with his jaw and sent Virgil crashing to his elbows and knees, spraying the ground with devil blood. Lady watched grimly as he twisted his neck to catch a last glance of her, teeth beared, before collapsing onto his stomach. He had passed out. Lady took off for the steps, blood-stained dagger still clutched tightly in her hand, its power scaring and exciting her at the same time. She sped past the body of her father, staring at the flight of steps in front of her –

"_Mary." _

Lady stopped dead in her tracks. Only one person other than her knew that name. She turned around slowly. Arkham stretched a trembling hand towards her and called his daughter's birth name again, in the same feeble voice. Lady couldn't believe her eyes. Her father was alive.

* * *

Lady thought fiercely: Arkham was not dead; Virgil had not done the job properly. Her chance for revenge was still there, she could still kill him. There was still a way to put her soul at peace. Lady realised she had stopped breathing while these thoughts gusted through her mind, and she sucked in some cold air in a gasp, not able to take her eyes off her prize. She strode towards her fallen father, a malicious smile spreading across her face. The situation excited her so much she threw back her head and laughed, a kind of manic happiness flowing through her.

Lady kneeled down beside her father and held the blood-stained dagger up to the moonlight. His bi-coloured eyes widened. Reigning in her euphoria long enough to hold the blade tightly in two hands, Lady positioned it over Arkham's heart. This wasn't quite the way she'd fantasised killing him – already wounded and near death – but it didn't matter.

"This is for you, Mom," she whispered.

She took a deep breath, tensed her arm muscles…

"I'm sorry, Mary." The words were faint, but unmistakably clear. Lady stopped the driving force behind the dagger.

"What?" she growled, blade still poised critically, "What for?"

"Everything," Arkham quavered. "For murdering your mother, abandoning you…" He gasped for breath, speech taking its toll on his body. Lady half-lowered the dagger. She reasoned he was just trying to con her into sparing him, and this sent hot ripples of anger through her. It made her want to kill him and be done with it, to silence this nonsense talk of apologies. There was also the serious risk of him going to die soon anyway, by Virgil's sword. But the rational and inquisitive part of her wanted to hear what he had to say. Arkham continued slowly, breathing through his nose.

"Virgil forced me into this. I never wanted to…I was weak…I succumbed to his control…"

Lady looked up sharply at Virgil: he was still unconscious, for now. Who knew when his healing abilities would activate? Maybe they had already begun? Lady didn't have much time. Arkham had spoken of control, of weakness…

"What are you saying?" she asked cautiously.

"I am free. Never again will I bow to that unclean demon's demands." The dagger slipped from Lady's hands to clink softly on the ground. It wasn't his fault.

All her life, she had been wrong about her father. Where the strength of the human spirit fails, the power of the demon will triumphs. An overwhelming grief flooded Lady, drowning any anger for her father.

"I'm sorry, father." She whispered. Great pearly tears rose up out of her eyes, and she struggled to blink them back, to no avail. They cascaded down her cheeks, dripping onto her father's chest.

"Listen to me Mary," said Arkham, "Your weapons are in a storeroom on the second floor. You know what Virgil is planning. You must stop him." Lady nodded gravely and said she would. But Arkham seemed to have drifted into his own world of faded memories. His eyes glazed over, and Lady strained to hear the sound of him breathing, for it had grown very faint.

"You're so beautiful," he sighed, reaching up without touching her face. Lady gave a heavy sob and snatched his hand, pressing it to her cheek. It wasn't his fault, he couldn't die now! He didn't have to! The tears slid down her face, catching on Arkham's fingers.

"Just like your mother…" his voice trailed away. Lady felt the strength in his fingers suddenly vanish, and she was the only one holding his hand against her cheek. She dropped his hand in shock; it flopped to the ground.

"No…" she said softly. She pressed two fingers to Arkham's neck, lay her head on his chest, waved her hand over his mouth, trying to find something, anything to signify his life.

Because of the strong, logical side of her, Lady gave up very quickly. She sat there; eyes cringed up, her breath heaving in sobs. Her father's brown and blue eyes stared blankly up at the crescent moon. She hesitated, then smoothed her hand over his eyelids, and crossed herself silently. Lady thought of his parting words; how he had never meant to hurt her mother or her, how it was Virgil who –

_Virgil. _Lady shot a venomous glance at the half-devil: to her horror, he had rolled onto his side. Emotions raged a war inside her. Lady deeply yearned to rush over and stab him until there was no breath left in her, but in her heart she knew it would only prolong his weakened state. Once she had tired, he would heal quickly and render her immobile. It was cold comfort to know that he couldn't kill her (yet) due to the fact he needed her for his evil ritual.

She had to get away. Now. A ragged gasp escaping her lips she grabbed the dagger and sprinted for the steps, fear pumping adrenaline through her exhausted body. Her mind had gone through so much, she allowed fear to enter it. Lady flew down the steps, trails of tears freezing to her cheeks, struggling to cry and breathe at the same time.

A dead man and two devils littered the summit ground. Arkham lay still. Virgil's eyes fluttered open.

Dante's cold fingers twitched.

* * *

A/N: -sighs- Ah, Full Metal Alchemist, where art thou? Er, I mean, next chapter up soon. Reviews are like rainbows; they light up my day. Wink, wink.


	7. Chapter 7: States of Mind

Disclaimer: Do I WANT to own Devil May Cry? (Well actually I saw it on sale for 17 bucks today, but that's beside the point.) All hail Capcom, etc.

A/N: Hi ho, all. I'm off to New Zealand tomorrow on America's Independence Day, so there shan't be anymore updates for a couple of weeks. As if _anyone _updates that often anyway… -glances around nervously- Thank-you kindly to all three wonderful reviewers. (Unless I've overlooked someone, in which case I'm terribly sorry.) I think today it will be… virtual ice cream cones!

ShadesOfBlood: Cheers; I don't think the chapters are _that _short:)

The Tyrant Hamster: Great feedback! I'm glad the scenes from the game are becoming more seamless. And FMA can do anything. XD

Dantesgrlfrend13totally: (Back off bitch, he's mine:P) Thanks so much for your review!

And now on to the chapter. The clichéd, random, not-much-happens-just-fleshes-out-the-background chapter. They have to exist somewhere. At least we meetJester.Enjoy.

* * *

Virgil raked his fingers through his damp hair as he sat back on his heels. He paused, dreading the familiar rise of blood in his throat. Nothing. The half-demon blew a sigh of relief through his nose and wiped his mouth. The red pool before him gleamed in the moonlight, taunting him. He stared at it in frustration. How could a measly dagger have done this to him? Virgil couldn't get his head around it: he hadn't healed instantly after the stabbing, _and _he had felt pain.

Real pain, the kind that caused humans to scream and cry. Neither he nor Dante experienced the feeling much; the damage begot by lower demons and human weapons produced no sensation, except perhaps a dull sting and shock with the odd bullet. But this – a simple demon hunter's blade – cut him deeper than any devil's scythe?

Virgil grit his teeth and chanced a look at his chest. The wound was closing up a little faster than before, the skin stitching itself back together, morphing from the inflamed violet to a more healthy-looking cream. Finally beginning to breathe normally as his punctured lung healed, Virgil got to his feet swiftly. Too swiftly; black spots danced in front of his eyes. He swayed, then steadied himself.

Lady had spoken of 'human love'. Was it possible that it was capable of such magic? Such…power? Virgil's eyes narrowed as an evil smirk stretched across his lips. He would investigate this new power…after he completed the task at hand. Virgil strode between the bodies of his servant and brother.

Brother. Twin. He stopped for a millisecond, staring at Dante's body. No humble story-teller can begin to fathom the thoughts of a devil such as Virgil whom has murdered his own twin. So all one can say is that Virgil did indeed only stop momentarily, before heading for the steps, planning his next move. There was no need to track down Lady, for she would come to him. He would go to the offering chamber and start the ritual without her. The blood sacrifices from the king and queen were performed at the end.

Virgil was still having second thoughts about a queen – he was going to take all the power for himself anyway, she would be useless after the sacrifice. Except of course, Virgil reminded himself, for the little miracle happening inside her. If he did die, or became uninvitingly trapped in the demon world, he would use the child as a vessel to live through, to continue to wield absolute power.

_My reserve body, _Virgil thought as the wounds finished healing. Though, it had been rather dull making love to an unconscious woman.

His thoughts were interrupted by an unknown presence in the air. Quick as lightning Virgil drew his sabre and rested its tip under the chin of a strange creature that had just materialised beside him. It (or rather, by the looks of it, he) was a deep shade of purple and resembled a medieval entertainer. His nose was as crooked as his shoes, and tiny skulls dangled from the two tips of his hat. He looked surprised and almost happy that Virgil was perfectly capable of slitting his throat in a matter of milliseconds.

"What do you want?" asked the silver-haired devil calmly.

"Oh, nothing much," the other demon replied. He had a nasally, crackling voice, almost comical. "Just wondering of you're done with little brother over there." He pointed to the still form of Dante with a spindly, unnaturally long finger. Virgil's eyes narrowed at the demon. What could this bizarre creature possibly want with Dante's body? He didn't have time for jokes. Virgil let the sword tip drop a fraction of an inch.

"Yes. What do you want him for?"

"Oh, this and that, this and that. Full of questions tonight, aren't we?" chimed the demon, backing away to safety. Virgil allowed him. It was probably just some foolish prank going on amongst the lower devil ranks. Not bothering to look at the creature, Virgil uttered two words:

"Take him."

The purple devil whooped in delight, dancing towards Dante, singing,

"For Jester there is fun, for devil boy there's none…" Virgil rolled his eyes, slid Yamato back into its scabbard and headed for the steps.

* * *

CREAK. The storeroom door voiced its protest as Lady pushed it open. Darkness enveloped her; she groped along the wall of a light switch. CLICK. The claustrophobic room flooded with yellow light from a single bare bulb in the ceiling. Lady walked between the narrow aisles of weaponry, skimming for her own guns and ammunition. She spotted it – propped in a corner, the engraved words _Kalina Ann _glimmering in the dim light identified her faithful missile launcher. 

The rest of her artillery was stashed on a nearby shelf. Lady went over and traced her finger over the elegant letters, reminiscing. It too had belonged to her mother, but no one before her. The technology was still state-of-the-art, even after all those years: multiple heat-seeking rockets, retractable serrated blade that doubled as a grappling hook, and of course its main feature: homing missiles with enough fire power to turn an average demon into a nice smoking hole in the ground.

Lady had stolen it from her mother's weapon cabinet on…that night. It was raining. She had worn an extra jumper because the fire wouldn't start. Her mother had been cooking pasta for dinner, when Arkham came home…Lady angrily smacked her forehead, scolding herself again for thinking about it. Shoving the memory from her mind, she grabbed the nearest pistol and began strapping it to her thigh.

Without her guns, Lady felt naked – unarmed, unprotected, vulnerable. Most men weren't attracted to women who felt most at home loaded up like a mercenary. Except Dante, of course. Lady's lip curled as she remembered him staring brazenly at the guns strapped to her body. Or was he staring at _what _they were attached to…? She pulled a buckle tight and reached for another gun.

_Dantes' dead, _she reminded herself. Hell, he might even have been a fun fling for a week or two, if he had been human. And less obnoxious. And less arrogant. And…

"He was an asshole anyway," Lady reassured herself, moving on to ammunition. She wished she could take more of the stored weaponry with her. Her mouth watered at the sight of the AK47, X2000 zoom scope sniper rifle, semiautomatic shotgun – there could have been a million dollars worth of artillery in that small room, but it would all weigh her down.

Lady allowed herself to pick four light-weight fragmentation grenades that fit in her spare holsters. She figured it would take Virgil longer to heal from thousands of shrapnel pieces than one big explosion. Lady visualised the sharp metal fragments zooming towards him and embedding themselves in that porcelain face of his. Killing him would be her final release. Once he was gone, this demon portal would close, and she would be free to enjoy the things in life her hatred of them had robbed her of.

Lady couldn't remember the last time she'd been out to a club, or restaurant. Her Saturday nights consisted of either heading down to the shooting range and peppering paper targets with bullets, or leaving men to eat her dust in motorbike street races. They were her main source of income, apart from occasional work at The Depot, a military supplies store. The irritating thing was flicking off soldiers who had come in to buy a hunting knife and discovered a pretty sales assistant. She made a game of it. See how many she could reject in an hour, then try to break that record.

The demon hunter finished loading up and swung the Kalina Annover her shoulder. As she walked between the aisles, she caught her reflection in the metal of a handsome silver rocket launcher. Her white blouse was still stained with Virgil's blood. Now that she looked, she could feel the material clinging to her skin uncomfortably. Her hair was awry, knuckles bruised from beating the bars of the cage, face and arms smeared with demon dust. But the thing that worried her most was the dirty state of her bandages covering the grey demon's scythe slash.

Infection was a risk; she needed to bathe the wound and wash the bandages. Which meant she needed to find a good water source – there was probably a decorational fountain or something similar in the tower; she just had to find it. Lady closed her mismatched eyes and dreamed blissfully of diving into a cool, clear pool. She examined her cut before twisting the door handle.

_Yes, _she decided. She exited the storeroom and set out in search of water, like some great explorer. Virgil would have to wait for now.

* * *

A/N 

I may or may not change the title of this thing, purely because I believe it's too long, and to trick lovers of Devil May Cry 1 and 2 into reading it. Mwahaha! If renamed, it will simply be called 'Jigsaw Pieces.'


	8. Chapter 8: Blue Silence

**A/N: OMFG it's an update. In bold. Yes, I've hopped on the 'author notes in bold' bandwagon. And look down, there's a big, juicy chapter for all you lovely readers in regular font.  
**

**Grade 12 consumes your life! Hence the lack of updatedness. However, over half of it is over, and then there's the beautifully insane week of Schoolies. I'll definitely post a story about Dante visiting Australia to attend said week. But anyways, enjoy ze chapter. I've tried to lighten things up a bit. Sort of.**

* * *

A lone raven sat atop the stone pillar of Temen-ni-gru, its feathers shining a rich, glossy black under the moonlight. It stared down at the spread-eagled form of Dante before taking wing, calling to the sinking moon overhead. The sky was lightening in the east; a faint off-white glow bled from the horizon. The stars were dimming, as if whatever force existed up there had turned down the sky's brightness dial. 

Dante's fingers twitched again. His eyelids quivered, then opened, blinking furiously to clear their owner's vision. He sucked in a breath and sat up slowly, rubbing the now unscathed spot which Virgil's sword had pierced.

It had taken every ounce of his life essence to heal that wound. So great was the effort that he had died momentarily. The thought send an unfamiliar shiver down his spine.

Dante flopped his head between his knees and scratched it incessantly, frizzing up his mop of silver hair. It helped to clear his head, and it would have stayed clear, where it not for the scratchy voice of a demon.

"Hello there!"

Swiftly, Dante rolled to his feet and trained Ebony on a clown-like, freakish purple thing grinning widely with a set of yellowed teeth. So comical was his appearance that Dante snorted and loosened his grip on the trigger.

"I didn't know the circus was in town," he said.

"Allow me to introduce myself," said the creature, ignoring Dante's comment, "My name… is Jester. And I'm here to help you!" he announced, bowing so low his crooked nose brushed the ground.

"I don't need any help from _you_." Dante replied smugly.

_Apart from target practice._ He decided against the idea on account of not wanting to waste bullets (yet for some reason he never ran out…) and headed for the steps.

"You're going the slow waaaaaaaaay," sang Jester, dancing circles around the half-demon. He suddenly pressed Ebony into the clown's nose, flattening it.

"If there's a faster way down this tower, let's here it," Dante snarled. Jester stared cross-eyed at the gun.

"Whoa! Le-let's not be too hasty…if you pulled that trigger, I-I could _die…_we wouldn't want that now, would we?" he stuttered. Dante cocked an eyebrow in an unimpressed manner. Jester grinned and gained a touch more confidence.

"Tut-tut; a bit slow today, aren't we devil boy?"

Dante fired at empty air. The irritating demon appeared at his opposite side. Fed up, he drew Ivory as well and shot at Jester's feet, stone chips flying up from the smooth surface. Jester cackled and did a kind of jitterbug dance, hopping like he was stepping on hot coals.

"Are you gonna tell me how to get down this thing quickly…" shouted Dante over the sound of bullets plastering rock, "Or do you wanna keep on dancing?"

"Hoo hoo, OK-OK-OK-OK-OK!" Jester crowed. The gunfire ceased. He feigned shortness of breath before pointing to the sheer edge of the summit.

"The simplest way is often the best."

Dante took one look at the perimeter and scoffed.

"You've got to be shitting me. Even I can't survive a drop like that."

"No…" said Jester slowly, sidling up in front of him and grinning a different grin. He reached up (and it really was up; the demon was a good foot shorter than Dante) and lifted a strand of silver fringe from Dante's forehead, much to the half-devil's suspicion.

"Not like _this._" He plucked out the hair. Dante let out a shout of outrage and opened fire on the wretched purple thing, but he bounced away with surprising speed, down the steps and out of sight.

"Man, he pisses me off." Dante paced and tried to figure out what Jester had meant. 'Not like this.' Not like what? With silver hair? For lack of a better phrase, wtf? Was hair colour a factor in determining one's ability to scale down vertical heights?

Bam. The thought struck him like a blow to the head. Not like this _form. _

His half-devil form, the one he resided in most of the time. But at other times…A knowing, grim smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. There was a devil inside him and he knew it. Dante had wondered when he'd have to try it.

Dante spun on his heel and faced the blinking city, awakening as the dawn caressed her sunlit fingers over it. He closed his eyes and concentrated on a certain energy buried deep within his heart, hated though it was. He began to walk towards the edge at a brisk pace, picking up speed with every stride. Dante could feel the mixture of human adrenaline and pure demon blood racing through his veins like a hot poison.

He broke into a run, wincing at the pain of the transformation. His body twisted out of shape as he ran – his creamy skin blackened and sinewed, his silver tresses vanished, a pair of wide, pointed wings sprouted from his back…it all happened in less than a second. It was agony, but at the same time, ecstasy.

With an inhuman cry, Dante leapt off the summit and plunged into fresh light from morning. The devil's blood was draining his energy – he needed to find an entry point on this face of the tower. His demon eyes saw everything in exquisite detail as he flew parallel with the tower: individual dust particles, insects beating their wings, the reverberations from every brick inside Temen-ni-gru…Suddenly his senses detected a foreign movement.

There! Dante swooped into an opening, his clawed feet thudding dully on the uneven stone. Without a second thought, he inhaled a huge lungful of air – and with it, his devil form. The terrible pain shot through Dante again as his body contorted and morphed back to its half-demon form. Cooling, gentle human blood diluted the devil toxin dominating his veins to half its intensity.

Dante breathed out and leaned against a crumbling wall. He had flown into a decaying courtyard, decorated with elegant but deteriorated pillars reaching to the sky. The ground, as he had discovered when he landed, was turned up and broken, like an earthquake had shaken it. There was no earth beneath the brick tiles, just more stone. The courtyard narrowed into a candlelit hallway a few yards away. Dante rubbed his eyes.

He just needed to regain his strength for a bit. As much as he hated to admit it, he was still young and inexperienced with his devil form. Soon he would investigate the strange movements; they were different to those of the hundreds of demons he had heard roaming the insides of the tower.

"I should have taken the stairs." he mumbled to himself.

The sun peeped over the horizon, just out of reach of Temen-ni-gru.

* * *

Lady gave a sigh of relief as she gazed at the inviting water. It was a deep, circular pool with a white marble angel statue in the centre; not as gothic as some of the other architecture. Its arms were folded in a hunched position, a look of strange anxiety chiselled into its features. The angel was female, like most of the statues, with flowing hair frozen in a billow, clothes blown against her body. Its curved wings served as a fountain: trails of water trickled from each wing tip into the rippling pool. 

Lady gratefully set down the Kalina Ann and worked on unstrapping her guns and ammunition. She had come across a couple of creatures; a few besickled Vanguards here, an enchanted statue there. Some Bloodgoyles almost managed to split her eardrums before she froze them in rock and shattered them with her foot, but nothing serious. Nothing the one-woman army couldn't handle.

Having heaped her weaponry in a messy pile, Lady stripped off her blood-soaked shirt and draped it over the pool's edge. She paused for a moment to stare at herself in the water's reflection.

She wasn't thin. She didn't particularly want to be thin either. Why some women destroyed themselves to be so skinny they looked 2D when side-on was beyond her. Here was the image they should be aspiring to – strong, muscled and fit, able to survive anything.

She liked her stomach – flat and faintly outlined with abdominal muscles from all her training. Her chest – not much happening there, and that was the way Lady liked it. No black eyes when she went for a run. Not a scrap of flab disgraced her shoulders, arms or legs – in fact they were all a bit bulkier than usual; she'd been practicing with the Kalina Ann a lot lately.

Lady turned her attention to her injuries and unwrapped the grimy bandages gingerly, wincing when the cloth stuck to bits of caked blood. She laid the material beside her shirt and inspected the wound. A thin, yellowish film had formed over the gash – the first sign of infection.

"Shit." Lady sighed and raked her fingers through her hair. If the water didn't wash away the pus, she'd need antibiotics. She'd have to leave the tower.

_No way am I doing that, _thought Lady as she unbuckled her ammo belt, slipped out of her shorts and kicked off her boots. Mounting the slippery marble edge, she raised her arms, took a deep breath, and dove into the water.

It was salty and icy cold, her favourite. Lady streamed through the water, feeling the blood and grit wash away. She hovered underwater for a moment, listening to the sound of blue silence.

* * *

Dante's boots made no sound as he stalked along the corridor that separated the balcony from the rest of the tower. Great wide arches stretched overhead, red orbs gleaming temptingly atop them. Dante craned his neck and groaned at the demon money; he could jump to reach it, but…meh. He felt considerably better after the human blood had soothed his veins, but this was Dante. Pizza was his staple food. He hardly ever did unnecessary things that required effort. 

The corridor ambled up some steps before opening out into a huge chamber the size of a cathedral. A white marble fountain dominated the space, and Dante spied some bits of fabric draped over its edge…

The sun's rays hit Temen-ni-gru, and in that same instant a figure flew up out of the pool. A wave of water droplets flew with her, sparkling in the light from the east corridor, where Dante stood. He froze as the droplets plinked back into the pool, revealing a toned woman clad in nothing but lacy, lavender lingerie.

The sunbeams highlighted would-be perfect skin traced with battle scars across her entire body, particularly a fresh gash in her thigh. Lady stretched and tousled her dripping hair, spraying more water to catch the soft, golden light. Dante swallowed to stop himself drooling and grinned.

Who the hell was this sexy thing? Surely it couldn't be the tough, quick-tempered mercenary who shot him on sight? Gone was Lady's trademark sneer, replaced with a peacefully blank pout, exposing the feminine angles of her face.

"Shit," commented Dante quietly to himself.

Lady was a babe. He'd almost forgotten, what with her language, fighting style and attitude. Dante laughed so softly human ears couldn't pick it up, as she swept her leg upwards, so her foot was beside her ear, to stretch. She didn't even realise how hot she was, he concluded with amusement.

He was a little surprised at this; Lady seemed the type to take advantage of every possible skill, yet she ignored the most bleedingly obvious one – the fact that she was female, and often came up against male enemies. She was completely oblivious of the 'seduce and destroy' mechanism that only she could use.

Dante grinned and kicked a loose stone to indicate his presence. Maybe he could enlighten her…

* * *

A clattering sound broke Lady's content mood. She looked swiftly in the direction of the sound, wet hair slapping her neck. A tall figure emerged from the east corridor that led to an outside balcony. She couldn't make who it was – they were shadowed by the bright sunlight pouring from behind them. They weren't a demon; it was a man, judging by the outline. 

Lady stiffened. That meant it was the one half-man she knew was still alive in Temen-ni-gru…

_Vergil._

The figure shifted, out of the disguising sun shadow. Lady felt her lips part.

Dante. He was alive! The sunlight from behind cast a golden ethereal glow around his features and turned his hair to molten silver. He looked like some unworldly god, or an angel, or some other creature that radiated light. One of his sapphire eyes closed in a wink.

"Hey, Lady."

This couldn't be happening.

Dante was supposed to be dead. She floundered back a few steps in the knee-deep water.

"You're alive," she choked out.

"And rockin'," replied Dante, wandering towards her. "Good to…_see_ you too." His eyes travelled up and down her body insultingly slowly. Realising her attire (or lack thereof) Lady gasped and plunged into the deep end, treading water while still staring at the half-demon in shock.

"Vergil killed you, his sword…I saw it, it went-"

"I don't think that's doing much, babe."

Dante rested one foot on the fountain edge and peered down. Lady had sort of forgotten that the water had always been crystal clear.

"I never guessed you were a Victoria Secrets girl."

Lady swore loudly and started to swim for the marble angel as a shield. She could _not _let a demon see her so naked, so vulnerable. She needed control of the situation. Struck with a sudden sense of confidence she'd never felt before, Lady swam back into the shallows and approached Dante, her legs lifting out of the water in an almost sensual gait.

Dante arched his eyebrows like Christmas had come early; he took his foot off the edge and smiled evilly. Lady longed to knock the teeth out of that grin, but instead she put her hands on her hips and said bluntly, "Turn around."

The half devil indulged in a last gaze before obeying with a shrug. A little surprised at his obedience, Lady turned her attention to washing her shirt. As she dipped the dirty garment in the pool, the demon blood rinsed out and began to colour the crystal water scarlet. She still hadn't completely recovered from the shock of Dante's revival.

"I thought you were dead," she said quietly.

A pause.

The trickling water of the fountain seemed deafening.

"...I was."

Dante merely spoke the truth, but when he heard Lady stop swishing her clothes in the water, he wondered if he'd sounded a little heavy. Hastily, he changed the subject. "So, what happened after I was out?"

Lady ignored him and resumed washing. Discovering her father had been possessed by Dante's brother and then wounding him with a holy dagger was not something Lady wished to discuss with Dante. She focussed on picking off the caked blood from her shirt. Lady noticed Dante had fallen silent, before…

"Whose blood is that, Lady?" he spoke with a complete lack of cockiness that made Lady glance at him over her shoulder. He had turned around and was piercing her with those glacial blue eyes.

"Don't look!" she said automatically, although internally, she was a little shaken.

Dante sighed and faced the east corridor again.

"It's...Vergil's."

"Vergil's! How the hell did you do that?" exclaimed Dante, doing a half-turn then stopping himself. Lady finished wringing out the wrinkled, damp shirt and pulled it on, along with her shorts. Her bare feet padded along the stone floor as she muttered,

"You can look now."

Dante spun, his face still set in boyish anticipation.

"Well?" he pressed. "How did you do it?"

What Lady didn't see was the dark desire Dante harboured for finding a weakness in his twin. Dante, a master joker and actor, kept that well masked. But to his delighted surprise, Lady reached down her unbuttoned shirt to a strange, small scabbard nestled between her breasts.

She wasted no time in withdrawing the dagger to divert Dante's obvious gaze. To her indignation, he stared at the weapon for a moment, scorned, before his eyes sidled back to their previous focus. Lady angled the dagger over her head. The blade caught the sunlight and shone it into Dante's eyes; he jerked his head away, cursing.

"Eyes up here, please." Lady pointed two forked fingers to her own mismatched orbs, then buttoned her shirt deftly. Sometimes she really hated being female. Dante recovered from the momentary blindess and said scornfully,

"You managed to soak your shirt, in Vergil's blood, using _this _little butter knife? Ha!"

He snatched the dagger from Lady's hand and held it over her head, pretending to examine it.

"Give it back!" she shouted as she swiped at her treasured weapon. But Dante was a good head taller than Lady; he held it high out of her reach and twirled it between his fingers.

"Hm. Nice metal, with no impurities. Still," he said as he absently caught Lady's punch with his other hand, "What makes it so special?" Lady leapt for her dagger again to no avail.

"Give it back!" she repeated angrily. "You don't know what its capable of!"

Again and again she tried to snatch back her mother's heirloom, but the wretched devil was too quick for her. He'd dangle it in front of her face, then pull it up at the last second, laughing and commenting on its crudity.

Losing control, Lady dove for her pile of weapons and grabbed the first thing that touched her fingers: a fragmentation grenade. Ripping the pin with her teeth, she pitched the grenade at Dante, who seemed unfazed. It clinked to the floor at his feet and, realising the severity of the situation, Lady flung herself behind a pillar and covered her ears.

She waited.

Nothing happened. Cautiously, Lady peered around the pillar in time to see a cloud of water surge up from the pool, accompanied by a muffled explosion.

_You son of a bitch. _She ran to the fountain edge to see the white marble bottom littered with shrapnel. Grenades underwater were quite harmless.

_That's the second time he's done that, _thought Lady furiously, thinking back to when he'd literally rode her Kalina Ann missile into the ceiling. The half demon's ability to render her weapons useless was uncanny.

"Ugh! Give me back my dagger NOW!" Lady shouted.

"Hey, I just want to look at it."

Exasperation boiling inside her, Lady once more pounced on her stash and snatched up a black uzi in each hand. She opened fire, striding towards the grinning demon. At the back of her mind, she knew it wouldn't do anything really, but she needed to inflict pain on him, to make him understand how important the dagger was to her.

Almost lazily, Dante pushed each of her arms out sideways so the bullets peppered their surroundings, the sound magnified by the sheer size of the chamber. Lady immediately focussed her aim back on Dante, silently ordering the entry holes in his torso not to heal for once. The bullet wounds disobeyed, vanishing almost as soon as she opened them.

Lady spun on her heel and fired at his legs in an attempt to catch him off guard. Dante somersaulted over her crouched form with a whoop and kicked her lightly in the square of her back. She fell forward, combat rolled, and was hit with an idea. Dante loved to anticipate and counter her moves.

_What if he remembers…I've got you now, demon. _

Lady drew back the handle of her gun and ran at him, just like before in the entrance hall. Dante sighed and shook his head, just as she thought he would. She allowed him to catch her gun's handle but brought her other uzi up to fire a shot point blank down into his skull.

In the second it took for her human brain to register her successful bluff, Dante's half-human hand gripped her wrist and pulled the barrel away from his silver locks.

"Ooh, I love a fast woman."

"Shut up!"

Lady squeezed the trigger of her hovering uzi. Bullets chattered into the air as Dante forced her arm down in a wide arc, emptying the magazine.

_What am I doing? This is pointless…_

Discarding the useless gun, Lady turned to free her other uzi from the half demon's grip – and he held fast. Dante tightened his hold on her wrist with a slightly dark grin, crushing it.

"OW!" cried Lady, dropping the gun. He released her. She was unarmed, with Dante blocking her path to the rest of her artillery. To her amazement Lady felt tears welling in her eyes but blinked them back, bewildered. She never cried. It made her realise how much the dagger really meant to her.

"Give it back."

Dante held up the glinting dagger and said with a cheeky grin,

"Ok…"

He lunged at her, point forward.

Fear caused Lady to jump back, but years of training prevented her form raising her palms in defence to be sliced apart. She needn't have worried – Dante merely swiped at her. He stepped back and tipped his head to the side, staring at her. Lady followed his gaze down, and her mouth rounded into an 'O' of repulsion. He'd slipped the top three buttons off without even touching the material or her, exposing a fair deal of cleavage.

"You fucking CREEP!"

She flew at him, fists balled, teeth bared. A half demon was toying with her! Rage clouded her mind, and Dante dodged her punches and kicks easily. But slowly Lady calmed down, and her attacks started to land their targets. It seemed Dante wasn't as flash with hand-to-hand combat than he was with swords or guns.

She switched fighting styles to keep him on his toes; from karate, to nin jitsu, to boxing, all the while backing him towards the wall. Finally Lady changed to tae-kwon-do, her favourite. Her mother had given her the choice of one martial art to start off with aged five, and Lady had picked the art meaning 'way of foot and fist.'

Lady put the definition to good use as her bare heel cracked against Dante's jaw as if it were her open palm. He had stopped grinning. His eyes narrowed as his back hit a wall, dagger still in hand. Lady had been enjoying herself; she'd been kicking the shit out of an irritating devil, and most importantly, had been in control of the battle.

But why hadn't he drawn his sword, or those black and silver handguns of his? He could of fended her off by now. As much as it killed Lady's pride as a human and demon hunter, she knew Dante could go to a whole new level so long as devil blood flowed through his veins.

Nevertheless, she pressed her foot against his throat, frozen in a high kick.

"Give it to me," she snarled.

Something flicked behind Dante's eyes, and then they were ice again.

"Come again…?"

"Are you deaf AND stupid? I said _give _it to me!"

Lady doubled-slapped him and pushed his neck harder, pointing to her dagger held by his side. Dante's smile widened and he licked his lips.

"Give it to you…?"

"Yes, just-" Lady stopped, his interpretation of her words dawning on her. The slightest of pinks seeped into her cheeks.

"You. Are…"

Her foot slackened from her anger as she searched for an insult. Dante took his chance and spun away from the wall. He flipped his glossy silver hair and struck a model pose.

"Hot?" he offered.

_Yes… What?! No! Well, okay then, you are. So what. You're still half-man. And ego is a man's biggest weakness, _thought Lady. She'd tried asking, yelling, fighting – now it was time for psychological warfare.

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**A/N: Ooh, Dante's in for it now! I say the next chapter will be up soon, but that's such a lie. –grin-**


	9. Chapter 9: A Dagger and A Debt

**A/N: Good day to you boys and girls, and what a fine day it is. To be finishing SCHOOL that is! That's right, little Arianni is growing up – I'm free in 5 days, then it's off to schoolies (similar to spring break, I spose). On an entirely different note, thankyou so much to everyone who reviewed. For today's chapter I've added a couple of things; you'll see. Now, let's get back to our favourite fighting couple, Dante and Lady. **

Disclaimer: OMGidontowndmcimsosorrylol

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"…A coward," Lady finished her sentence. "I bet you don't even have the guts to test the dagger on yourself."

Dante's eyebrows arched and he inspected the blade seriously before looking at Lady. "Like I said Lady, this dagger, although pretty to look at…" he tossed it in the air, sunlight glinting off the surface, "It's just not a good weapon." Dante caught the spinning weapon effortlessly by the hilt and grinned at her. "…Kinda like you."

Lady opened her mouth to retort this latest insult, but remembered that tactics were more important than verbal abuse when it came to physiological warfare. Instead of glaring and empting a few clips into him, she pursed her lips and cocked an eyebrow. "Well, if it's not a good weapon, you'll have total confidence cutting yourself."

"Sorry, not into the whole emo thing."

"Come on! You're so damn sure. Do it," said Lady sassily.

Dante shrugged and put the blade to his left wrist. "Whatever," he said. "If it'll help you sleep better at- AAAAAAAH!" He dropped the freshly stained dagger and gripped his shaking wrist. Blood poured down his arm, branching into little red streams.

"Ow! DAMNIT, that smarts! AGH!" A river of curses and exclamations flew from the devil's mouth as Lady calmly walked over, picked up the dagger and stared at him with smug satisfaction.

"I hate to say I told you so, but…well actually I don't," she smiled down nastily, for Dante was doubled over, clutching his wrist as if afraid it would fall off. Lady actually _sauntered _back to the fountain to rinse the blade, and sheathed it. She was quite proud of herself – she'd beaten him. Not in strength, or speed, or agility – but in wit. Unfortunately, Lady hadn't really thought about the consequences of her victory.

"Why won't it heal? And why does it fucking hurt so much?" Dante snarled, suddenly glaring up at her.

Lady blinked. There was malice there. A cruel but dormant fury lacing his voice she had never heard before. It frightened her, before she pulled herself together and hastily began swirling her bandages in the water.

"_Because, _Dante," she said, "This dagger has old magic. If you're dying to know, it's the power of my ancestors. My family. Female demon hunters, like me. I don't know how it works, but it has theirs, and my mother's, love. Something…that's lethal to any demon."

For some reason she couldn't bring herself to repeat the words she'd said to Vergil. Dante was a demon, yes, but maybe he'd understand. She could have sworn she heard him mutter, "Family, huh?"

That was all he said, so she considered the conversation closed. She focussed her attention on her washing task. A semi comfortable silence fell, and Lady found this uncharacteristic of Dante; he was always wise-cracking or saying something. Upon listening, she noticed that his breathing had become shallow, and rapid.

Lady glanced up to see he hadn't moved; his face cast in shadow from his silver hair. He was trembling. His right hand, which was clutching the wound, looked like it had been dipped in red paint. Lady stared incredulously.

"Why don't you stop the bleeding?" she asked.

"I…I-I don't know how."

She couldn't believe her ears. Did Dante just…stutter? He jerked his head up to meet Lady's gaze, his face in full view, and her heart skipped a beat. For the first time, she saw fear in the half demon's eyes. He suddenly seemed more human than ever before….

But then his hair fell into his eyes, a snarl curled his lips, and he was a devil once more. The snarl wasn't from pain though, as Lady was about to find out.

"Lady…can you…please…help me?" rasped Dante.

She didn't know whether to laugh or vomit. It must have taken him a great deal of courage to ask for help, let alone from a human, and furthermore from a demon hunter.

_But he is. He's reaching out. Demons don't do that, _thought Lady. Then she realised she hadn't actually answered him.

"Don't you know first aid?" she sneered half-heartedly, buying time.

Dante's reply was more ragged breathing, and Lady let out a little growl of irresolution, fighting with herself. She _could _help him…or she could leave him here to suffer. A human man would bleed out and die, but she knew Dante's demonic genes would take care of that. However, he would still lose a lot of blood, and could quite possibly lose consciousness as well.

_It would do him good to feel some pain once in a while, _she thought bitterly. Then a freshly buried memory dug itself up to replay in her head.

* * *

_Lady's breath rasped in her throat as she fought tooth and nail, trying to keep the demons at bay. She had slain many, and now another one crumbled to powder, its blade clanging to the ground just out of her reach. Lady slipped on the dust and a sickle glanced her left side, tearing through her white shirt and into her skin. _

_She screamed and ducked as the devils, spurred by her injury, slashed more feverishly. She couldn't fight much longer…the demons were closing in for the kill…Lady closed her eyes and cursed herself for not lasting longer…_

_Suddenly the sounds of twin gunfire made her open her eyes and look around wildly. Eight demons disintegrated, their remains scattering all over her. Lady didn't care; she saw a blur of red material, and a gun flying towards her. She snatched it from the air and shot at the grey demon in front of her, dimly aware of the silver-haired man at her back, firing away…

* * *

_

She owed him her life. After betrayal, debt was one of the things Lady hated the most. The frown on her lips progressed into an ugly scowl and she slapped the bandages onto the pool side with a loud smack.

"I can't owe you anything!" she cried at Dante.

The half-demon glanced up at her, confusion adding to the pain. Lady left the bandages to dry and made her way towards him. Dante sighed in relief so quietly that Lady's human ears couldn't pick it up. She stood before him and grabbed his hand none too tenderly. Dante winced.

"Hey, Lady?"

"What."

"…Thankyou. For this."

For the second time, Lady couldn't believe her ears.

_He did not_ _just thank me. Demons don't DO that. They don't care who or what helps them, as long as they live. What is wrong with him?_

Lady froze, Dante's blood slowly trickling through her fingers. At length she said nothing and pulled his wrist up to inspect it, receiving a sharp bark from Dante.

"Careful!" he growled.

Lady ignored him and fanned his fingers to flatten his wrist. The cut was quite deep, at least a few centimetres. Ripped skin and muscle tissue hung limply around the oozing wound. Lady noted with a mixture of fascination and uneasiness that half-demon blood was in fact, crimson. Red human blood, plus black devil blood.

To check for nerve damage, she poked at a piece of torn flesh. Dante exclaimed and jerked his wrist out of her grip, cradling it against his chest.

"That hurts!" he shouted accusingly.

Lady put her hands on her hips and retorted, "I didn't even touch the damn cut! Don't be such a baby!"

Dante backed away and threw his hands up in frustration with a grimace. The crimson trickle from his wrist increased in width. Lady noticed.

"Dante, don't do that…"

"Don't do _what_?" said Dante angrily, accenting his last word with a sharp flick of his hands. Blood sprayed the floor. "You're the one that's pulling me to pieces!"

Lady's temper flared. "You demon idiot, I was assessing the damage!" she snapped.

"Yeah? Assess this." Dante gave her the finger with his injured hand.

_Well now that's real mature…oh, shit…_

Too busy arguing with Dante, Lady had forgotten about the increased blood flow. Now that she looked, blood was dripping from his palm like heavy rain.

"Dante…"

But he was off on a sarcastic rant. "No! Don't say sorry; I know you'll take any chance to kill me!" He waved his arms around theatrically, and Lady's eyes widened. "That's what you hunters do, right? You're all the same." Dante pointed at her with his injured hand with a jerk, spraying blood.

Lady felt something wet touch her collarbone. She looked down to see flecks of crimson starting to trickle down her chest - her eyes widened in horror.

"…'Destroy all devil scum! We know exactly what they are: evil! Who cares about them? Who cares if some of them are different? Who cares if they've got family?' Who…uungh…"

The half-demon swayed and dropped heavily to one knee, his breath coming in deep pants. Little did he know he would experience that same feeling again soon, once he held the Neo Generator. Lady silently damned the demonic circulatory system and its efficiency. She quickly wiped at the blood on her chest and sprang forward, seizing his shoulders. "Dante. Dante, can you hear me?" she said in a controlled voice. He nodded.

"I need you to stay with me. Can you do that?"

"Yeah," he muttered, silver hair dipping in front of his eyes.

Satisfied he wasn't going to pass out (for now), Lady grasped his uninjured hand and clasped it over the gash. Dante drew breath between his teeth and looked up sharply, then swayed from it. Quickly explaining the concept of pressure and bleeding, Lady leapt up and jogged back to her soaking bandages, all the while wondering if he had meant all those things he said.

She saw that most of the blood had washed out, but the material was still stained.

_I'm not tearing off more bandages for _him. _He'll have to give me some of that coat for new ones for me, _she thought. She wrung the sopping cotton out best she could before returning to Dante. She swatted his good hand away and began bandaging the wound, her practised fingers working deftly. No sooner had she completed second wrap did Dante emit another groan and swayed forwards – right towards her. Lady caught a whiff of his musky boy smell as his head drooped over her shoulder. She wondered for a second how much Dante weighed…

"No-no-no, you stay with me, remember?" she said. He would certainly crush her if he collapsed on top of her. Grunting with the effort, she pushed him upright with one hand while the other kept pressure on his injury. Also biting her consciousness was a thought on repeat: she had to save him. He had saved her, a fact Lady could not face until she returned the favour. Then they could both get back to their own objectives, which were…stopping Vergil.

Lady hated to admit it, but the half-demon whim she was trying to keep conscious wanted the exact same thing she did. "Dante. Dante, I'm going to keep going, ok?" warned Lady.

Dante could barely hold his head up anymore; his breathing was still tattered and loud.

"Ok," he murmured.

He was acknowledging her presence; that was good. Lady bent her head and spun the material around his hand, weaving between thumb and palm, working her way up his wrist. She spoke to him occasionally like her first aid training taught her to keep his mind active. It was mostly basic questions, and involuntarily, Lady found out a fair few things about Dante.

"What's your full name?"

"Dante Alighieri Sparda."

"What day is it today?"

"Friday."

"What's your address?"

"Ugh..."

"What year is it?"

"2005."

"What did you last eat?"

"Pizza."

"What's your mother's name?"

"…Eva."

Lady kept the questions basic after that response.

Gradually, Dante's breathing slowed, he stopped swaying, and the shaking lessened to dull tremor. Lady tucked away the end piece of the bandage and cricked her neck.

"I don't think you can shoot with that hand," she said. "Maybe hold a sword, but it'll hurt." She stood before he could look up, eager to wash her hands. She'd repaid her debt. He wasn't going to collapse or bleed out, and his devil powers would soon begin to heal the wound. She felt slightly guilty, as if she'd committed some sneaky underhanded crime.

It felt strange to be taller than him, now that she was standing and he was still on his knees. It reminded her eerily of a marriage proposal. Then, with a mixture of surprise and irritation, Lady watched as Dante tossed his head back like some restless stallion. A small smile twitched a corner of his lips as he said, "Ha. Give me five minutes; this little paper cut will be gone."

He stood – his grin vanished, and he stumbled forward heavily onto Lady. She wasn't expecting this, so the inevitable happened: Lady fell with Dante on top of her. For a second she just lay there, the shock of an incredibly handsome half demon lying on her snatching speech from her. She could feel his body heat seeping through her clothes. And there was that smell again, that musky tang that now seemed so familiar…Dante fetched himself up on his good arm over her, and Lady snapped out of it.

"Well, if this is what happens when demon healing doesn't work, you should use that dagger more often," he grinned.

"Get off me. Now."

"Sure thing, babe."

He didn't move.

"_Fuck off!"_

"Alright, I'm going."

Dante pushed himself to his feet using his uninjured arm in one swift movement, so to Lady it looked like someone had pulled him from behind. The loss of contact was shocking. She shook her head and stood, brushing herself off.

"Next time, don't get up so fast," she scowled. "You've lost a lot of blood, even for you. It takes a while for your strength to come back."

"Yeah, whatever. Hey…hm."

Lady saw something spark in his azure eyes. They were dancing with life again, when only minutes before they had been half-closed with fear and pain. She was amazed at how fast he was responding to basic first aid. Still, that spark meant something more. Something dangerous.

"What," she asked suspiciously.

The spark grew into a glint. Dante's mouth curled into a grim smile. Lady whipped her head around, but there were no demons or anything else that would induce a look like that. He exhaled slowly and flicked his eyes up at her.

"I'd stand back, if I were you."

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	10. Chapter 10: Devil's Embrace

**A/N: Loyal fans, I love you, thanks for your patience. Muffin baskets all round. Here we are, a fresh chapter before I'm off to Japan ^_^ This one gets a little heavy-themed, just be aware. Enjoy!

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Sensing this was no joke, Lady obeyed. Dante bowed his head and closed his eyes. What happened after that was too quick for Lady's human eyes to follow. She heard an animalistic shout, saw a flash of red light, and the next thing she knew, a malicious, blue-skinned demon was standing where Dante had been seconds before.

Instinct drove Lady to her pile of weapons; she seized two handguns and fired madly. Thoughts chased each other inside her head: where was Dante? What was this thing? Would she be able to kill it? What did it want? The demon flipped a broad sword from its back and sliced the air before it. Bullet shell halves tinkled to the ground.

"What the hell are you?" exclaimed Lady, realising her weapons were useless.

"It's me, Lady," said the demon. Its two-tone voice sent shivers down her spine. She focused on the sword. The grey skull hilt, the colour of the steel, the nicks and scratches – it was unmistakably Dante's.

"Dante?" she said in disbelief. As suddenly as it had come, the creature roared, and was replaced by a handsome silver-haired man. Before Lady could speak, he tore off the bandages to reveal a perfect unmarked hand.

"Good old demon blood. Works a charm," he said with a wink.

Lady's head was spinning.

"You can – change – at will? And you heal faster?" she said.

"Don't think I like it. Pure devil blood," murmured Dante, "is like medicine. In small doses it's great. Have too much and it'll kill you."

Lady nodded, thoughts forming and reforming.

"Wait a minute. You're saying that if you stay in that devil form for too long, you'll die?"

Dante's eyes narrowed.

"Yeah," he said slowly, "But I'm not stupid enough to try it."

"I know another half-demon who is." It was so pathetically simple. If she aggravated him enough, Vergil could accidentally kill himself. She may not have to waste a single bullet. Lady marched over to her heap of artillery, pulled on her boots and began suiting up. There were still common demons infesting Teminegru.

"Lady, Vergil may be an asshole, but he's not stupid," said Dante, making his way over to the shrinking mass of metal.

"Are you kidding? I had him in the palm of my hand at the Moonlit Mile. All you have to do is – ugh." She shuddered, yanking a strap tight. That was one advantage, however sickening, she had over male enemies.

"What. What did you – ooooooh." Dante's mouth rounded as a look of dawning comprehension crossed his face.

"You little whore," he teased.

Lady holstered a gun with extra force.

"Shut up. I had to distract him," she retorted, moving up in her strapping to her thighs – and gasped.

They were bruised and coloured nasty shades of violet, blue and red. How she could have missed the injuries before was a mystery to her, but now that she stared, they began to tingle.

"Ouch; how'd that happen?" said Dante, eying her legs for once in a non provocative manner. Lady couldn't tear her eyes away from the bruises, confusion coursing through her.

"I don't know," she said honestly. She thought hard. She hadn't sustained them during her bout with the pride demons; she'd remember the pain. (She made a mental note to bandage the sickle wound on her waist.) Dante hadn't done it, and she hadn't tripped or ran into anything that would cause this kind of damage.

"Hold up," said Dante. Lady glanced up at him. His eyes were riveted to a particular spot. In an instant he was on bended knee in front of her, examining her battered leg with a touch so soft, she quivered.

"What can you see that I can't?" she said, trying to sound impatient. In truth she felt very uncomfortable and a little embarrassed at a man so close to her, seemingly without a dirty thought in his head. _Demon, _Lady corrected herself. _Well…half-demon._

Dante's fingers froze on her skin.

"Vergil, you son-of-a-bitch."

She'd never heard his voice so low or deadly. Dreading the outcome, Lady followed Dante's gaze to where his hands rested. One was splayed on each leg, quite high up on her inner thighs. He slowly moved his hands away.

There.

Clear as day. Handprints, highlighted on each leg in white against the violet skin. They had fitted perfectly in Dante's hands. Which meant…

Lady paused. Everything – her brain, breathing, movement. She was stuck in a few moments ago. Dante swore quietly as he rose.

"Lady, I'm sorry," he said. He began backing away from her as if she were an explosive. Lady looked down and touched the finger marks. Her mind began to churn, slowly at first, then faster, with pieces of information.

"_I need an heir to live inside in case I die…"_

"_Shush now my queen, you don't want to upset the new life in you…"_

Heir, new life – Vergil had meant…he'd _done…_when she was knocked out from the tranquilizer…she was now…it clicked.

A huge, crushing weight slammed down onto her heart. It felt as if someone had dropped a tonne of frozen stones into her; some landed in her head and back, most had landed in her heart, but the rest tumbled down into her stomach, her legs…

She couldn't fight it, the stones forced her to her knees, the weight still crushing her.

They blocked her lungs, her throat, her mouth; she couldn't breathe; she tried to suck in a breath but all she heard was a horrible rattling sound…

Could she breathe? Could she make a sound? The stones were welling in her throat, she had to get them out somehow…She managed to suck in a clear breath and to scream the stones out.

The sound echoed off the walls and filled the chamber. She screamed and screamed until her throat stung and her voice became hoarse. As if things couldn't get any worse, she suddenly felt dirt all over her skin. The stones were inside her, but the dirt she could get rid of! Lady clawed at her legs, brushing away the dirt and filth that wasn't really there.

She scratched at her arms, stomach, neck – but the dirt wouldn't come off. She wanted to slit her skin, to climb out of it and run away. She looked around wildly – the pool. She launched herself at it, feeling the cold water rush over her.

It helped, a bit. Maybe a thousandth of the filth washed away. It wasn't enough. Maybe if she went underwater…Lady took a breath and dove. At least most of the stones were gone from her throat. She waited, trying to spin around underwater, creating momentum for the dirt to lift from her skin.

She was amazed she hadn't sunk straight to the bottom, what with the weight inside her. It wasn't working. Maybe if she kept at it more would dirt come off. Her lungs began to tell her to surface, then demanded, then yelled, then screamed at her. The stones caught alight, burning. She could take it.

The dirt was worse.

Her vision steadily narrowed into two points of blue light fuzzed with a black boarder. Her mind churned to a halt, and the pain suddenly seemed unimportant. Lady felt stones were lifting.

She felt light as air. At last. Lady closed her eyes to enjoy it. She didn't have long. Someone reached into her heaven and tore it apart – strong arms wrapped around her shoulders and hauled her out of the water.

_No, _Lady thought. _Leave me alone. I like it here. _

She kept her eyes shut, her body limp. Maybe if she stayed like this, the peace would return. The water was draining around her body; the sound of dripping reached her ears.

Lady refused to accept it. She felt her body lift into the air for a moment before settling on hard stone. She couldn't ignore it now. The water, and her peace, were gone.

Then something crushed on her lungs and it wasn't the stones.

Lady jerked upright, coughing and spitting water. Her eyes flew open; shapes and colours slowly cleared into a picture. Dante's face filled her vision. Another sound reached her ears other than the dripping – his voice, shouting. Lady squinted and struggled to make sense of it.

"…Lady! Lady! Snap out of it! I…" He looked upset, but she couldn't figure why…it looked like he was about to cry…why was he doing that? What was wrong? Lady began to get upset herself.

He was Dante! He wasn't supposed to be able to feel anything like that! She felt the tears welling. How dare he be upset. How dare show emotion…show weakness…

"What's _wrong _with you?" she cried, the tears overflowing. Dante looked like he'd been slapped, before a look of…sympathy, was it? Overcame his features. Lady felt herself being pulled into a devil's embrace, one of Dante's hands stroking her wet hair, the other holding her close on her back.

For a moment, Lady forgot who he was. Someone was touching her. Touching the dirt. It would get on him, and then _he'd _never get it off! She tried to push away, but he held her tight. Didn't he understand? He was getting dirt on him!

"Let go!" said Lady. She struggled against him wildly, beating, but her legs were trapped beneath her. Even though he was down on his toes, his balance was rock steady. She couldn't infect him too.

"You're gonna get dirt on you!" she cried, twisting and writhing.

Dante began repeating her name in her ear in a low voice, swirling his hand at her back. She listened but kept struggling. He'd never be rid of it like her, they'd be stuck filthy together forever…

"Lady, its ok, its ok, I…I'm not getting dirt on me."

"YES YOU ARE!"

"No I'm not, I'm fine. See?" He released her. She staggered to her feet and leapt back as he rose gracefully, never taking his eyes off her. She eyed him. His skin was as pale and luminous as ever. Even with her warped imagination, Lady couldn't dream a mark onto him if she wanted to.

"You're…you're ok," she said. "It's not rubbing off."

He gave a nervous smile and spread his arms to show her, but she misunderstood. Lady barreled into his arms, as she had found one good thing about him.

He was warm. The stones were cold. Maybe he could melt them away.

She clutched at his coat and buried her face into his strong chest, trying to press every inch of her body into him, to get the warmth in as many places as possible.

"Lady…" Dante hesitated, but only for a second. She felt his big arms encircle her, heating her back, and nuzzled even harder. They stayed that way until steam rose from her clothes, and the morning sun cast shadows on the water.

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**A/N: Right, one more new story maybe. Then off to bed for a 5am start to catch this plane. Buh. Catch you guys later! **


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